


i am brave, i am bruised, i am who i am meant to be.

by tousled



Series: who you are meant to be [1]
Category: DreamWorks Dragons (Cartoon), How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blind!Astrid, F/M, Not Canon Compliant, Other Background Characters - Freeform, Princess Outpost Hiccup, Race To The Edge, Unrequited Hiccstrid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-05-03 12:29:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14569029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tousled/pseuds/tousled
Summary: It’s said drinking from Eir’s Well will cure any sickness or injury, and after Gothi’s temporary blindness cure fails Hiccup’s determined to fix Astrid’s lost sight. The gang embarks on the journey to find it, hoping the story is true. Astrid, although struggling, is not helpless and with the twin’s help at creating odd resources to make things easier the idea of being “fixed” seems less and less appealing.





	i am brave, i am bruised, i am who i am meant to be.

**Author's Note:**

> Woah, it's _done_. This fic to date is the longest thing I've ever written and I'm still wowed. I thought it was going to be the longest at 5k, at 10k and then 20k and it kept going and going. I just want to thank everyone who joined into the HTTYD Rare Pair Micro-Bang 2018, it was a lot of fun and great talking to everyone! Check out the collection and look at the other works. 
> 
> A massive shout out to my good friend [soligenas](http://soligenas.tumblr.com/) who beta'd this for me! It was _such_ a great thing to have someone reading alongside and getting excited about my writing as it was happening. I don't think I would have been able to get this done without her. All remaining mistakes in this fic are my own, if you spot anything, please let me know! 
> 
> Another one for [daglout](http://daglout.tumblr.com/) who was my amazing artist!!! [See the art here!](http://despiteherself.tumblr.com/post/173955108224/daglout-happy-rairpair-reverse-bang-i-made) It's so thoughtful and beautiful, I am truly #blessed. Plus, Casey was super supportive in making this whole event go ahead. 
> 
> Finally, thanks to you for reading. This fic has taken me hours and hours and days and days. It's been thinking and imagining and listening to the same song for months (This is Me - Kesha, from The Greatest Showman Soundtrack. The title is from the song too. I also listened to Dance You Off - Benjamin Ingrosso near the end, after being interrupted by Eurovision. The lyrics don't necessarily go with the fic but the I can see how it influenced my writing, and an upbeat funk/pop break-up song is #mood.). I'm excited to be finished, but it's been such a part of my day I'll miss it. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing and please, I'd love to hear your thoughts!

It's not quite a day, or perhaps just over - time's harder now -  before someone interrupts Astrid's self imposed solitary confinement.

  
  
The door to Astrid's hut isn't actually physically locked; anyone could have opened it up and walked in if they had wanted to. And even if it had been locked, someone with a head full of determination, a couple of dragons or a set of lock picking tools could have got in eventually. In either case, the door hadn't presented a real barrier to any of the gang, not even with a triple stryke protecting the front door and Stormfly acting Astrid's scaly cushion.

  
  
Astrid doesn't know who she's expecting first. She knows who she thinks it should be (Hiccup), and who's probably researched the most (Fishlegs) and who might gloat (Ruffnut and/or Snotlout) but it makes sense when it's Tuffnut.

  
  
"You coming for dinner A?" Tuff says, and then promptly trips over something with a loud thud.  
"What?" Astrid says, bolting upright with a startled laugh. It catches in her throat, stuck between needing to snickering over Tuffnut tripping and the terrifying, overwhelming reminder she can't help him up because she can't _see_ a thing.

  
  
"It's so dark in here," Tuff grumbles, "so inhospitable, not even putting a lamp on for guests. I bet you were trying to trip me on purpose." He accuses. Astrid know him well enough she can map out the hand shaking action she can't see and it's another terrible reminder. Without sight she misses out on all the body language.   
"What good would a lamp do me?" Astrid asks, but Stormfly shifts and then there's the telltale sound of her deep magnesium burn. It warms up Astrid's hut, chasing the crispness out of the surrounding air. Astrid hadn't even realised she was cold.

 

Tuff sighs too, at the warmth or the light Astrid's not sure, and he exclaims so she assumes he finds a lamp. She can hear him moving about, the sound not quite where she expects it each step and it's enough to make her queasy. Before, calling out in the storm to Sleuther, hearing everything but seeing nothing had been less scary than this moment right now. She'd been angry, frustration bubbling up in her throat at Hiccup's missing faith and the lack of trust from Stormfly. Adrenaline was louder than the thunder, beating in her ears, and she'd stepped up like she always does. It had been terrifying; it had been easy. She had her own faith.

  
  
Now, in her own hut with her own things, Astrid can't even find her own clothing without some kind of difficulty. She might have left her furs in the common room, she's not sure. Hiccup and Fishlegs keep talking about some kind of possible cure for Temporary Blindness that involves far off herbs, uncomfortable poultices and Gothi's mystical knowledge. They promised to fix her and it had made her more uncomfortable than the twins sniggering because they'd moved her chair slightly to the left.

  
  
"Are you actually coming to dinner or can I eat your mutton?" Tuff asks, voice closer than Astrid thought he was and she can feel the warmth of the lamp now that Stormfly's stopped her fire.  
"Don't you dare touch my mutton." She says, looking in probably not his actual direction. Tuff laughs.  
"Race you for it," He crows, and then he's just the sound of thumping feet across her room and the swing of the door.

  
  
"Odin," she says, hand on Stormfly's rump to hold herself steady before taking a step into the unknown. Stormfly stands up, steadying to Astrid's own pace as she holds her hand out. The common room is half way across the edge, but it doesn't seem half as impossible with mutton on the line.

  
  
Tuff is, in fact, just out the door ready with a yell and a "LOKI'D" when Astrid punches him. Her aim's off, but if she listens she's pretty close and Tuff laughs, creak of the lamp swinging between his fingers. It's unerringly the same, except Astrid can't see his dopey grin and it's all very training a wild dragon in the middle of a storm normal.

  
  
"I win!" Tuff calls when he steps into the common room half a step ahead, before skipping off into the noise of the room.  Astrid snorts, rolling her eyes.

  
"Astrid, you're here!" Fishlegs says, somewhere across the room. Astrid's barely stepped a foot into the common space before it turns into, "we've got the wolfsbane and the purple anemone, just a few more ingredients. Gothi, Gobber and Stoick are on their way."  
"Okay." Astrid says. It's stiffer than she means, but she's concentrating on feeling her way with a foot and her hands in front towards what she assumes is the table. There's enough clutter of spoons against bowls and general eating noises it's a pretty good guess.

  
  
She's nearly there, or likely not really there at all, when a chair shifts and someone takes her elbow to turn her. It's nothing like Tuff leading the way, and the surprise means her helper gets the elbow to the stomach.  

  
  
"Oof," Hiccup winces, loud enough in his motions that Astrid doesn't need to see them to know the pain in his features.  
"Sorry," she says, hand out to find the table. She doesn't feel that sorry, and misses the table completely, walking straight into the edge.  
"Here, you should let me," Hiccup insists, but he's obviously still holding where Astrid elbowed him as the chair legs drag against the wooden floor.

  
  
"I'm not sharing," Tuff announces, too loud for someone sitting not too far away, but he nudges a bowl over anyway. It's mediocre really, not worth racing Tuff across the Edge at all. The stew liquid is too runny and Astrid hunches over the bowl like a terrible terror with an entire pike so she doesn't accidentally dribble gravy down her front.

  
  
"Tomorrow Fishlegs and I are going to collect Death Song Amber and Snotlout's going to collect Typhoomerang Island to collect eel slime." Hiccup continues, from Astrid's right. Snotlout mutters something of a complaint that trails off. "We should be back in the afternoon, and by then my father and Gobber should have collected their list and will arrive with Gothi."  
"It'll be easy," Fishlegs says with false bravado. Obviously, everyone had been talking about this behind her back.  
"Then you'll be fixed." Hiccup adds, voice low and smooth but strangely Astrid doesn't find it as soothing as she thinks it's supposed to.

 

  
"Thanks gang," Astrid says to her mutton. There's a chorus of various responses, from Heather's "no problem Astrid," to Snotlout's loud " _y_ _ou're_ welcome."

  
  
Tuff chats in her ear the entire rest of the meal. He discusses a prank he and Ruff are going to pull and how Barf and Belch won't take their flea bath like Chicken does. It mostly involves rolling around in the dirt, which Astrid's not even sure Barf and Belch can do but she'd like her sight back just to see that.

 

  
  
****

 

  
  
When Gothi arrives it's still only Heather and the twins on the Edge with Astrid. They're struggling to play a complicated card game the twins made up just for Astrid, after cheating her out of a weapons belt and a throwing knife on a regular game. It involved vandalising Fishlegs' proto-dragon cards and stealing all the pieces of Hiccup's Maces and Talons set.  Heather's already folded, citing the rules being made up on the spot and too complicated to follow. She’s shining Windsear’s scales, brushing her down with a coarse brush as she watches the rest of them play. The sweeping motions are soothing, it settles Astrid enough that she can focus enough on the non-visual aspects of the game so it’s probably easiest for her.

  
  
There's a thump thump and the sound of heavy boots against wood and she's up and out of her chair in a flash, axe ready. Stormfly barely bristles - Astrid’s already learnt the sound of her spines sticking up - but Astrid still grips at her axe ready to be swung.

  
  
"Hoff, chill out." Tuff says, his chair is creaking so Astrid's sure he's peeking at her cards. The dented shapes are pretty formless so it's not likely useful. "It's just your knights in smelly yak furs."

"Manners," Heather retorts. Astrid can hear a chair scraping along the floor, and Heather’s voice sounds closer. “Stoick, Gobber, Gothi, it’s good that you’re here. The others aren’t back yet but they shouldn’t be too long.”

“We can get started on preparing the potion then,” Gobber says, cheery as ever. The thump, which now with context makes sense as Gothi’s stick, stops and a resounding thwack! sounds out. “Poultice, I meant poultice.” Gobber corrects. “Heather, a hand?”

 

“I’ve got all the collected ingredients thus far we could get,” Heather says, there’s rustling and general movement that Astrid can’t follow. She vaguely remembers the lay out of the room but it’s not enough to understand what’s going on. Especially when she knows Gothi’s there but all to show her presence is an intermittent thud of her staff against the wooden floor. Sometimes it gets lost amongst the sound of Gobber’s wooden leg.  

“I’m glad to see you in one piece, regardless of anything else Astrid.” Stoick says, and he makes far more noise to show where he is that it gives Astrid a warning before a heavy hand lands on her shoulder. She’s still got an axe in her hands, if someone quieter had touched her it could have been truly disastrous.

 

“She’s fine, she’s whipping everyone’s butts at Thorston Cards.” Ruff grumbles. Astrid not sure that’s true, especially now everyone’s seen her cards. They better re-deal.

“Thorston Cards?” Stoick asks with a laugh, “what in Odin’s beard is that?”

“Something the twins are making up. It involves far more than cards, and a good deal more rules.” Heather calls from the fireplace, there’s already sounds of mixing and Gobber’s humming.

“I can’t read the cards anymore, so the twins made them so you can ‘read’ them with your fingers.” Astrid explains, finally relaxing out of her stance and putting her axe down. She feels around on the table until she finds a couple of cards and holds them out to where she thinks Stoick is.

 

“I call it Tuff-Writing!” Tuff announces, loud enough that he’s speaking over Ruff already saying it’s a stupid name. If it had been Ruff’s idea she’d probably want to call it Ruff-Writing.

“Tuff-Writing, eh?” Stoick asks. He pauses, it’s likely meaningful but Astrid can only imagine him running his fingers over the cards like Astrid had done when Tuff presented them to her. It doesn’t mean as much to anyone as it does to her, but Stoick gives the cards a careful  consideration. “And how do you play exactly?”

 

“Who knows,” Heather calls out again. Ignoring her,Tuff launches into an animated retelling of the rules he made up on the spot. Ruff interrupts to make it even more complicated, adding rules they hadn’t even played with before.

 

Astrid reaches out a hand and feels for her chair. She’s lost it in the movement and waves her hand around slowly to try and find it. Tuff calls out “to your left!” so Astrid shifts right and her fingers brush the edge. Sticking her tongue out in the general direction of where Tuff’s voice came from Astrid pulls the chair so she can sit at the table again.

“Deal me in,” She says, hands skimming the surface of the table to check for any cards. “And don’t change my character on the board again.”

“You have to be the dented piece then,” Tuff says. Astrid rolls her eyes, unsure of how effective that is now and reaches out to start the new game in motion.

 

They’re three rounds into Thorston Cards and Stoick’s winning, when a soaking wet Snotlout comes grumbling in. Astrid can tell from the way each stilted step squelches, and from the twins' giggles. He slams something on the table, the force of it knocking over all the stolen Maces and Talons pieces.

 

“Bring that over here!” Heather calls, “don’t break the container. It’ll be such a waste if you spill all the slime before we use it!”

“Ugh, can’t you do it yourself! I’m freezing.” Snotlout calls back, grumbling to himself again. “Stupid dragon, not bothering to warm me up. What’s the point of a self-igniting dragon if they let you freeze?”

 

Astrid can hear the scrabble of Hookfang’s claws so she knows the Monstrous Nightmare followed Snotlout in. There’s a flash of warmth, dragon fire whooshing past and then a yelp. The twins burst out into laughter, raucous and unwieldy so it’s easy to guess what just happened. Snotlout groans and swears but it’s almost good natured now.

 

Hookfang shifts around and comes up to Astrid, snuffing and nosing at her hair in a hello. She reaches up, hand bumping against his jaw and strokes his scales in her own hello back. After a moment of chin scratching he lumbers to go say hello to the other dragons lazing around.

 

"We're just waiting on Hiccup and Fishlegs to get back now," Heather calls out the update, a rhythmic stirring sound coming from the fireplace.

"Why are they _taking_ so long?" Snotlout grumbles, voice coming from the same general space. The anxiety in the room ratchets up a notch and Astrid considers going to lay down or something.  Maybe it's just Astrid's anxiety, because the twins and Stoick turn back to the game of Thorston Cards with no problem.

"They'll be here soon," Astrid says. She doesn't know that at all, and all she's thinking about is the ruined dragon cards with their bumps and the now dented Maces and Talons pieces. There's going to be yelling.

"I'm sure they won't be long." Stoick adds, his voice booming and warm.

 

It turns out, once Astrid's lost a shoulder plate but won one of Stoick's throwing knives and a broken belt buckle of Tuff's, that both of them are right. Fishlegs and Hiccup fly in smoothly, chattering and happy. A success then, even though the others had taunted about being stuck on Death Song Island forever. Meatlug lands with a thump, happily barrelling in to say hello to everyone with heavy nuzzles and slobbery licks. A moment later Toothless brushes past to get pats and attention too.

 

"We got it!" There's rustling as Fishlegs brandishes a bag containing the amber.

"Well met!" Stoick calls, his chair shifting to stand up and it's too much noise for Astrid to pick anything out. The moment becomes a blur; a father-son hello, the dragons chittering, Heather calling Stormfly to come and heat up the Death Song amber, Chicken clucking as her roost of Barf and Belch is displaced, Gobber singing.

 

"It's your turn A," Tuff cuts through the noise. Astrid's world narrows down to his voice; something she can focus on and she imagines what his expression is like. The tone gives nothing away but she bets it's his deadpan flirt face, half an up-quirk of his mouth because he can't lie to save his life.

"What have you done to my dragon cards!" Fishlegs screeches before Astrid can draw her two of circles. Oh, there it is.

 

"Tuff-Writing." Tuff announces.

"Shit name," Ruff adds.

"What in Odin's Beard!" Fishlegs cries.

 

There's several more flurried moments, of Fishlegs getting angry and Snotlout laughing. Tuff's indignant in tone, but Astrid can only catch half the words, and Hiccup's already got his telling off voice on.

 

"It's for me, you know." Astrid says. She tilts her head down like she's looking at the cards instead of just memorising them with her fingertips. "I can't do much without being to see anything, can't design tactical advice, can't sharpen my axe, can't play cards. The twins just wanted me to be able to do something whilst we were waiting."

 

It settles the air for a moment, silence aside from the crackle of the fireplace and the noise of Stormfly's magnesium blast. And then Hiccup goes, "but you two shouldn't have touched Fishlegs' dragon cards." In the most stern teacher voice imaginable, sounding so much like his own father. Gobber huffs out a laugh. "And taking my game pieces was a wrong thing to do too. Don't take people's stuff."

"The amber's almost ready for use," Gobber says, "if you're finished being mini-Stoick of course."

'The poultice is ready?" Hiccup asks, hope lighting his tone and even though it's good news Astrid's stomach doesn't lift up too.

 

"A couple of minutes," Gobber warns, but it means the other conversation is forgotten. Astrid places the cards down on the table and pushes herself up slowly. She trails around the table, hand holding her way over the table and Stoick's shoulders until she gets to the twins.

 

"You know," She whispers, "I'm really glad you made the cards. Even if you cheated me out of half the stuff."

"Cheats? Well I never," Tuff embellishes, "Ruff, perhaps, but me? How could you suggest such a thing Astrid?"

"Hey!" Ruff barely complains, counting the stuff she'd won over the course of the morning.

 

"Here, let me." Hiccup says, taking Astrid's arm barely second after and it's only just enough warning that she doesn't smack him again.

"I can't _see_ you." Astrid warns.

 

It's really closer to ten minutes before the Deathsong amber is ready, Hiccup's impatience rattling against Astrid's arm. Once it's mixed, everyone's ushered back to Astrid's hut so it can be applied whilst lying down comfortably. Astrid lays down, trying to hold still as Gothi scoops dollops of the pungent poultice onto her face, and feels the weight of everyone's gaze. It's not that comfortable, silence of baited breath, until Tuff exhales loudly, gulping for air exaggeratedly. Astrid can't help the smile, tucking it away as Gothi ties cloth around her head to keep the poultice in place.

 

The poultice is cold, and kind of sticky so all in all it's really gross but she's told to lie as still as possible so she does. It's tingly too, which probably means it's working but Astrid keeps her eyes open, sick to her stomach with too many emotions. What if it doesn't work? What if it does?

  
  
The gang doesn't leave, except to relieve their bladders and it's kind of nice. Heather tells a story about her time alone and vengeful. Stoick entertains with war stories from when he and Gobber were young, not quite as wild as a hammerhead yak but getting there when Gobber adds notes. Fishlegs info dumps about the properties of the poultice ingredients until Hiccup interrupts to speak about a trick he's practicing with Toothless.  Snotlout embellishes things everyone actually experienced; the twins laughing at the most outrageous lies and trying to outdo them.

  
  
Ruffnut's half way into exaggerated retelling of the Boar Pit Incident when it seems at last the time comes. She trails off as Hiccup sighs "Thank Odin," before touching Astrid's face with warm hands. Astrid couldn't see Gothi nodding, couldn't see Hiccup moving and the feel of fingers on her temples with no warning shocks her into moving.

  
  
The grunt of pain sounds too loud in Astrid's ears, her fist had met something hard. Stoick's voice rings out, to ask if Hiccup's okay and note with a laugh that Astrid's got a mean right hook.

  
  
"I'm fine," Hiccup says, but it's muffled and Astrid's guessing there's at least bloody nose.  
"Sorry," she says, touching her temple just below the edge of the poultice. This time she means it, but everyone knows she can punch and people should know not to touch her when she can't see it.

  
  
"Come on A," Tuff says with a yawn, "take the poultice off. We redecorated your hut when you couldn't see."  
"You wouldn't fucking dare," Astrid says, but the twins would and it makes her smile unintentionally. She reaches for the poultice tie and lets the uncomfortable sticky thing fall from her face.

  
  
For a moment, she's scared, eyes still closed. She wipes her face, brushing as much of the left over poultice off and opens her eyes. The whole rooming is holding in a breath again.

  
  
She still can't really see.

  
  
"Did it work?" Hiccup asks, still muffled and Astrid turns towards his voice, unsure what to say. Everyone spent a lot of effort going to getting things for this. Apparently, it's obvious it hasn't because Hiccup swears.  
"It's better?" Astrid feels oddly okay, feels a little relieved which is definitely _not_ the correct response.  "I mean, I can tell there's a lamp to my left."

  
  
Everyone starts talking at once. It's too much, Astrid can't focus on any one sound so it's just a whirlwind of words and worried questions. Stormfly shifts closer, the creak of the wood and her weight against Astrid's side a point to reign in her wandering mind to. Amongst it all, between Tuff asking how many fingers he's holding up and Fishlegs going over the poultice ingredients again there's a constant sort of scratching.

  
  
"Did someone leave a dragon outside?" Astrid asks, thinking of how Sleuther's still hanging around but not super comfortable with everyone. The ruckus is probably agitating him, but that's not quite it. The sound isn't quiet talon on wood, it's more like sweeping sand off the decking after taking the dragons for a beach swim.  
  
"Did someone pour sand into my room?" Astrid interrupts the confirmation that no dragons are left outside. The noise is definitely the scritch-scratch of sand moving about. Maybe one of the dragons brought it in. There's an odd sort of bubble of confused noise for a moment and then -

"Gothi's speaking." Heather announces. The room falls into a hushed silence. It continues that way until Gobber winces out an exclamation.

"Gothi says there is possibly another way," Gobber says, and the noise of sand shifting continues. "You need to find the hall of ears -" there's a thwack and Gobber exclaims, "Well of Eir, sorry. It definitely says Well of Eir."  
  
"Ooh, I've heard of Eir!" Fishlegs butts in, there's a flurry of movement like he's hand flapping. Astrid imagines he is. "According to legend she was a Valkyrie who was an incredible physician; it's said she could heal anything." He pauses, a dramatic flair to the tale but he's interrupted.  
  
"Where can we find this Well of Eir?" Hiccup asks, ever pragmatic. The sand scratching starts up again.  
"North of the Siren Island, follow the wind as chases the clouds to the End of the World. Past dragons of stone and the bones of kings, you'll find the Well of Eir atop Lyfjaberg tended by Valkayrie spirits." Gobber recites, and surprisingly, he must get all of it right because Gothi doesn't hit him.

 

"Is that all?" Heather breathes, a laugh caught up in the words. A few moments of laughter do spill out into the air, half-hearted at most and the worlds spin around in everyone's minds.

"Lyfjaberg," Fishlegs parrots, "Lyfjaberg, Lyfjaberg, Lyfjaberg, oh! - The mountain of Healing. I'm sure I've read something about it in a book or two."

 

"Well, we know where Siren Island is," Hiccup says. "We can start at Death Song Island tomorrow, and maybe our way from there. Fishlegs, Heather and I can bring some water gourds back. The rest can stay back and defend the edge, and make sure Astrid's okay and can get places with help."

 

"I'm going with you." Astrid says.

 

"Astrid," Hiccup starts, but Astrid doesn't want to hear it. She's had enough of him gripping her arm and touching her when she can't see and saying she's helpless.

 

"I'm going with you," she repeats, "it's necessary. What happens if you lose the water on the way back? Or something else happens? The gang should come with, we're a team, it's only fair. We can leave some of the A-Team in charge of the Edge whilst we're gone."

"Besides," Tuff adds, "A can do all those things you said herself, you know? Walking and sleeping and eating, plus like axe grinding and flying on Stormfly. And probably axe throwing, definitely dragon training, shoe polishing if she wanted to, sweeping if it was her turn. Lots of things. Were you really trying to make us babysit over that?"

 

"It's not safe." Hiccup says, ignoring Tuff completely. Even without seeing him Astrid knows he's waving his hands to add meaning to that statement. She would have ignored it anyway.

"And staying at the Edge, blind, is going to be safer? Sure, especially if Ryker finds out and launches an attack. Super safe, and not risky at all. We're Vikings, we're _Dragon Riders,_ safe is overrated."

 

There's a moment of silence, aside from Gobber's snort of laughter, and Astrid doesn't know if she should break it. She doesn't even know if she's looking in the right direction.

 

"Okay, okay, you make a convincing point." Hiccup concedes, "we'll all go. Dad, on your return to Berk can you send some of the A-Team to defend the Edge? We'll wait until they arrive before leaving."

"Sure, I'll send a few along," Stoick says. "I guess we better be getting back soon, anyway."

 

"Thanks Dad," Hiccup says. There's shifting sounds, and footsteps. The slap of an arm against a shoulder.

"Sorry it didn't work Astrid," Gobber adds, his hand coming to lay on Astrid's shoulder and it's only the shift in light that warns her this time. She elbows him in the stomach anyway, and Gobber laughs. 

"Thanks," She says, looking up in the general direction of where his voice is. There's more general goodbyes and a couple of condolences about the whole thing not working out before people start shuffling out of Astrid's hut. Hiccup goes after a pat to Astrid's thigh, talking to Stoick and Gobber, and Snotlout's arguing against being roped into helping Gothi carry things.

 

"Fishlegs can do it!" Snotlout complains.

"Fishlegs can help then," Stoick agrees, interrupting his own conversation, "but you're still helping"

 

The voices drift off out into the open space beyond Astrid's hut. Once its quieter, the twins murmuring to themselves and Heather shifting around there's the scratching of dragon claws as Sleuther slips in. He accepts pets from Tuff for a moment before coming over to curl up next to Astrid. She pets him too, shifting over so Stormfly can join in on the cuddle too.

 

"You sure you're okay?" Heather asks, the bed sinking next to Astrid. She telegraphs her moves, adding "I'm going to touch your side now," before she does it.

"I'm not sure." Astrid says, because they both know okay doesn't cut it. And because Astrid doesn't know how to discuss it anyway. Maybe she is okay, and that's not the correct response at all. "I'm probably just going to sleep for a while.

"It's only the afternoon," Heather says, but it's kind instead of judging.

"That's fine," Astrid can tell that it's light but it could be anything really. Could be the sun, or a lamp or a dragon's fire. "I can't really tell."

 

"I'll let you sleep then," Heather smiles. Astrid can't see it, but she knows it's there from the warmth in her friend's voice.

"Thanks Heather." Astrid says, resting her hand awkwardly to where she thinks Heather's arm might be. It sort of misses, fingers brushing against Heather's stomach. Heather takes her hand and squeezes it, then stands back up to leave.

 

"Come on, Ruff and Tuff," she says, "let Astrid get some sleep."

"We're not finished redecorating," Tuff whines, words trailing off into a snort of laughter. Ruff's giggling too; the both of them sounding absolutely mischievous.

"You better not have!" Astrid calls, pushing herself up and she can sort of see where they are from light amounts in the room but it's not enough to chase after them.

"I'll get them," Heather says, her voice suddenly mischievous in a way Astrid's barely heard before and obviously her expression is frightening because the twins go scampering off.

 

The noise drops off, a silence Astrid's not quite sure exists because no one's here or no one is talking. After a minute or two she settles back down onto her bed, feeling it out as she shifts to lay down again. Sleuther and Stormfly shift too, heads up on the bed and Astrid lets her hands trail along their scales until she drifts off to the sound of their deep breathes.

 

  
****

 

For a moment, Astrid's not sure what wakes her up and the darkness is disorientating. The fact it doesn't get any better doesn't help and she flounders until her hand hits Stormfly's side. There's a noise, the sound of someone creeping across Astrid's room but the dragons aren't bothered so she doubts it's a true intruder.

 

"Hoff," Tuff's voice is a whisper, right up next to the head of Astrid's bed. It's enough of a warning but Astrid pushes him anyway. There's a thud and Tuff goes "oof!" but the exclamation is this side of too loud and delayed.

"Don't sneak up on me," Astrid says, as serious as she can until Tuff starts laughing from where he's sprawled on the floor. She cracks a smile, unintentionally but definitely doesn't laugh.

"If I lost any of the cards you can find them." He adds, another creak of the floor and the sound of shifting fabric. Astrid sits up, feeling her way along the bed and against her dragons to make room as Tuff sits beside her.

 

He's cold to touch, arms brushing up against Astrid as he settles in so close their knees knock. It's like being eight again and squishing up with the twins in their fort that's really made for two. Astrid had wanted to play dragon slaying, building up a fake buildings to pretend it's Berk but Ruffnut and Tuffnut had enjoyed wrecking everything. Sometimes they pretended to be the dragons themselves, tiny roaring and pushing over the fake buildings to signify burning them down. Astrid would tackle them, or use Ruff's slingshot to pelt them with pebbles they all definitely weren't supposed to be pelting at each other. Sometimes, the three of them would squish up underneath a table covered in a yak pelt and slingshot whoever was walking past until someone told them off. It doesn't feel any different, except there's dragon scales at Astrid's back and Tuff's hair doesn't quiet get up her nose the same way.

 

"I made new Tuff-Writing cards," Tuff says, poking them into Astrid's knee. She follows her leg to where they're pointing in her skin and takes the cards in her hands. Their fingers brush, but quickly because his are icicles.

"Who's cards did you steal this time?" Astrid asks, tracing her fingers over the feeling of the bumpy paper. She can sort of recognise several of the patterns they had before but not everything feels the same.

"Stealing? Me?" Tuff squawks, an exaggeration of tone. "Actually, Fishlegs helped. He had some spare parchment. I took it, but Hiccup made me _ask._ "

 

"He's a drag," Astrid jokes, it only feels like half a joke right now.

"Absolutely!" Tuff continues, tapping at the cards in Astrid's hands. "But he did let me use a leather needle to push the bumps in the cards so they're much better than the old ones. Chicken helped."

"Tell Chicken thank you," Astrid says. She drops half the cards on her lap, mostly on accident but it frees up her hands to feel the rest. "You'll have to teach me what all of this means."

"It'll cost you." Tuff warns. He's serious but Astrid laughs because he's being exactly the same as normal and it's refreshing. Of course it'll cost her. "I want at least three of Stormfly's spines."

 

"Ask Stormfly," Astrid suggests, and Tuff immediately turns to pile on a tonne of praise on Stormfly. She preens, Astrid knows even without being able to see it, pleased with the attention. She shifts, curling around and so does Sleuther, nuzzling up against Astrid's side for attention as Stormfly lays her head in Tuff's lap.

 

 

****

 

 

It takes a day and a half before some of the A-Team arrives at the Edge. Bucket and Mulch arrive first, with a niece who's only twelve but feisty and starts going into defences straight away. Astrid's endeared, but she can't really explain her designs on paper or show them so Snotlout helps badly. Several minutes later Sven arrives chattering mile a minute to his passenger, who has plugged their ears with sheep's wool. She introduces herself as cousin Ingrid, but doesn't say much more and only nods to signify understanding. Sven talks more than enough for everyone.

 

"We best be on our way," Fishlegs says, his voice at Astrid's shoulder when there had been nothing there a moment ago. He guts an elbow to the gut for his troubles; apparently no one is _learning_ it's a dumb idea to sneak up on Astrid.

"Sorry," she says. "We should be heading off though, I don't imagine we want to stay overnight at Deathsong Island."

 

Everyone's mostly packed, except for Snotlout's "essentials", and Hiccup's just finishing the tour of the Edge so it really is time. The moment feels grand, like stepping into the next new adventure. It's enough to make Astrid's stomach fill with happy nervous butterflies.

 

"I'm riding Stormfly," Astrid says, voice firm. Once the effect of the wild storm and the fear and caution from everyone else Stormfly was surprisingly easy to convince to let Astrid go for a fly again. Heather had helped, at the beginning, as a safety net.

"I really think you should ride with me," Hiccup adds, voice out of no where too and he's just lucky he's far enough away that he's out of Astrid's reach. The surprise might have been less of a factor this time.

 

"I thought dragon riding was built on trust," Astrid sniffs. She hopes her tone is as withering as she feels. "Didn't you get us to ride with blindfolds on to show us to trust? Stormfly doesn't _need_ direction, we know each other well enough to be able to do this."

"It's safer." Hiccup argues and Astrid thinks of all the non-safe things Hiccup's done in the past fortnight and thinks, _no._

"Fuck off with that condescending yak shit," Astrid's got plenty of well thought out arguments but who cares.

 

"Are we going to leave sometime today or is there still time to hang out at the boar pit?" Ruff calls, voice slightly muffled in a way that reminds Astrid of how the twins like to lounge on Barf and Belch, faces pressed into their scales.

"Let Astrid ride, she's not a newborn." Tuff adds. And then, with a snicker, "don't you just love catching her when she falls anyway?"

 

"I for one, think Astrid should ride with me." Snotlout interjects, speaking over Hiccup's spluttering. He inhales, like he's got a lot more to say before Fishlegs speaks over him.

"Maybe Hiccup is right," Fishlegs starts, until Astrid sends what she hopes is still her withering look towards him. "Or Astrid should be the one to choose."

 

"Will you lot just get on with it!" Sven yells, mostly because yelling's about the only noise level he can actually do.

 

"Astrid's taking Stormfly." Heather says. She'd been quiet most of the conservation, but her tone is heavy enough to carry a sense of finality.

"I _am_ riding Stormfly." Astrid confirms, end of conversation.

 

Stormfly doesn't complain, waiting patiently as Heather gives Astrid a leg up. It feels good to be back up in the air, especially to be up and over ocean which feels blustery and cold in a way tiny flights over islands don't. It feels like being normal, even if Astrid can only really tell they're heading away from the sun. It's just ocean and a few sparse islands between the Edge and Deathsong Island, she's not missing out an unmissable view, but Astrid still wishes she could see it all the same.

 

Most of the conversation is lost to the winds and Astrid's lack of interest, her arms wound around Stormfly's neck to keep her steady. She'd started sitting up but gusts of unruly wind and other turbulence had her wobbling, much to her disappointment. Still, arms looped against the warm scales of Stormfly's neck it's the same experience. Astrid takes in cold gusts of wind, her hair and clothing tugging back to follow it, the salty smell of travelling over the ocean and can picture it in her mind's eye anyway.

 

It's almost disappointing to arrive at north beach of Deathsong Island. She needs help to slip off Stormfly's back because she can't tell where the ground is, it's awkward and uncomfortable. Flying had been the most normal she'd felt since the accident but without pretending things hadn't changed and it had tasted like hope.

 

"What does 'follow the wind as chases the clouds to the End of the World' even _mean_ ?" Snoutlout dismounts, a loud pat of Hookfang's shoulder, his pacing in the sand a bunch of shuffling noises. "Follow the wind? You can't even _see_ the wind."

"Follow like a boat would Snotlout, let the wind fill our sails." Fishlegs says primly.

"I guess we let the wind take us away from Deathsong Island." Hiccup speaks over whatever Snotlout was going to retort. Astrid can hear him shift in the sand, facing a different direction. "We're going North, so it's logical to head that way and follow which way the wind blows."

 

"The winds change," Heather adds. Everyone must turn and look at her because in the next moment she's deadpanning a " _what_?" so dramatic Astrid can imagine the shoulder shrug and the expression.

"What else choice do we have?" Hiccup asks, his voice the sound of axe sharpening. "We could spend _months_ mapping the way the winds move and change. We take a chance now and if we can't find the End of the World we come back and try a different way."

"And how long will _that_ take?" Heather asks back, Windshear rattles her scales. "How far away is the End of the World? We haven't found it already, so it's far."

 

It's got to be something more complicated than that, Astrid thinks, letting the argument wash over her. Or something simpler.

 

She leaves them to it, letting Stormfly guide her over to sit with the twins. Her scales under Astrid's hand feel steady and warm, a perfect balance as she trips through the beach sand. Barf and Belch nuzzle a hello, their faces pressing into Astrid's torso, playfully pushing each other away and nipping. She pats their jaw scales and firmly shakes whomever's being naughty by the horn.

 

"It's like an Opera," Tuff says, "I should have put something fancier on."

"And snacks,"  Ruff adds, "does 'Lout even have an argument? And 'Legs needs to grow a spine."

"I think there's some dried smelt skin in Stormfly's saddle pack." Astrid offers, using Tuff's shoulder instead to balance as she sits down in the sand with them.

 

Ruff goes through the saddlebag, messing up Astrid's neat organisation and getting everything all mixed up. Astrid supposes it doesn't matter, she can't see it anyway. There's actually dried smelt and some ship's biscuits so the three of them snack on that, sharing bits with their dragons. Tuff begins a running commentary of what Astrid can't see it, exaggerated and silly. It trails off after he gets bored, says descriptions of birds and interesting looking pieces of seaweed instead, giving estimations of how close the Deathsong is by the different amounts of bird song and where it's coming from.

 

Ruff picks up the argument instead, more exaggerated and gruesome about the words being said. It’s silly, in a way but the twins have a contagious enthusiasm and a flair for drama, so the commentary is nice. Tuff drifts off again, letting Ruff extol the frowning of their friends. She gets bored of it too a bit later and the conversation drops back.

 

"Odin," Tuff says, several moments later, "those cliffs look fantastic for wing gliding."

"Wing gliding?" Astrid asks, turning to where she thinks he is.

"Sometimes," Tuff says, leaning in closer, drama in his voice, "Ruff, Barf, Belch and I do that cliff jumping thing Hiccup made us watch. Except we have Barf and Belch, not a piece of fabric strapped between our arms and legs. If their wings open at the right time you catch the air, it pushes you up and can go gliding."

"Sounds fun," Astrid says, knocking their shoulders together. And then, "do you always follow the same path?"

 

"Hmm?"

 

"When you jump off the cliff, does it take you the same way each and every time?" Astrid turns, hoping she's facing the cliffs and tilts her head up like if she looks in the direction she'll be able to actually see it. To maybe watch the birds she can hear calling or an adventurous dragon _wind gliding._

"Sure, you go up." Tuff's still close enough Astrid can feel the shrug. She loops her arm around his shoulders awkwardly, missing it at first but eventually getting there and tugging him in.

"You're a genius," Astrid says. She gives into a whisper in her brain and presses a dry quick kiss to his cheek. She misses again, hitting the edge of his jaw below his ear. "Give me a lift up, and you and Ruff should show me how to wind glide."

 

The twins are surprisingly good at providing a framework for Astrid to lift herself. They hold out arms, keeping as still as possible under the downwards pressure of Astrid pushing off. They're also great for a leg up, hands linked to lift up so Astrid can swing a leg over Stormfly's side.  It probably has something to do with being pranksters, sneaking in through people’s windows and the like, but Astrid's grateful for it anyway. She wraps her arms around Stormfly's neck and pets the scales there.

 

"Hey girl," She begins, "the twins are gonna teach us something. It's called wind gliding, we're going to use the uplift of air over the cliff to carry us along. Sounds fun yeah?"

 

Stormfly's used thermals before, when they're out flying over ocean and Astrid's sure she knows far more than Astrid does about the winds and how they work. Or ever likely will. She shifts, following Barf and Belch as the twins whoop about getting to wind glide. It gets the attention of the others and Hiccup calls out "what are you doing?"

"Entertaining ourselves!" Astrid calls back, face warm against Stormfly's neck as they take off. A minute later they’re atop the cliff face, Astrid’s heart in her throat.  

 

Ruff yells out instructions, but the words whip by and Astrid can’t _see_ what they’re doing so it’s not much help anyway. She rubs a hand down Stormfly’s chest and trusts her to know what to do, nudging her knees gently into Stormfly’s sides. The twins are cheering again, their voices increasing in pitch as the noise gets fainter.

 

“Here we go,” Astrid says, tapping Stormfly’s side and they do; launching into the wind. There’s a terrifying moment where Astrid’s stomach drops, plummeting to the beach bellow before Stormfly opens her wings and they’re tossed upwards. The movement shifts, Stormfly flaps to keep steady but then she just soars, the direction lost on Astrid. Some wind has caught them, tugging at Astrid’s clothing and her hair, pulling them along.

 

“Look there!” Ruff calls, voice heard even over the rushing wind, and the sound of Astrid’s heartbeat in her own ears.

“What is _that?_ ” Tuff yells out too, and Astrid automatically swings around to look even though all she can tell is it’s bright in that direction.

“What can you see?” Astrid shouts, adrenaline buzzing in her veins from excitement just as much as it’s from the feeling of gliding.

“There’s a path!” Tuff’s yell is full of excitement too, swept half way across the next breeze as he exhales. She can imagine the grin she knows is there, wide and bright and looking like it hurts but it would hurt if it wasn’t there at all. “It’s like, that time the Flightmare followed its glowing food through Berk! But lumpier.”

 

Astrid laughs, she doesn’t know what lumpier means, but this is clearly the first part of the riddle. “Let’s fetch the others, yeah?” she says to Stormfly, patting her again. Stormfly drops out of the glide, shifting her wings to let them fall down the air column, cutting across the updraft.

 

“What on earth was that!” Hiccup all but yells even before Astrid and Stormfly have landed, his voice heavy with anger.

“The twins found the wind chasing the clouds,” Astrid says. She doesn’t dismount, there’s no point and because she’ll probably fall on her face if she tried anyway.

“Really?” Fishlegs asks, half curious and half unconvinced. How he manages to get so much in just two syllables is a miracle.

 

“What’s up there Astrid?” Heather interrupts, speaking loud enough to silence the boys.

“A path,” Astrid says, even though _she_ didn’t see anything. The twins did. Astrid believes them. “Come on, let’s go.”

 

She pats Stormfly’s side again, the both of them rising in the air, not waiting for anyone to follow. Astrid can’t tell where the twins are now, but she trusts Stormfly to lead them in the right direction. Moments later there’s wingbeats over the sound of rushing wind and Astrid knows the others have followed her up.

 

“In Odin’s name,” Snotlout calls, and it’s echoed by the others too, awe in their voices. It makes Astrid jealous, deep in the pit of her stomach. She wishes she knew what they were looking at, that she could see the path laid out for them too.

“You were right.” Hiccup yells, and then, “alright gang, let’s follow the wind.”

 

“Ruff and Tuff were right,” Astrid corrects. And then they’re off, chasing the clouds.

 

 

****

 

 

It’s twilight hours when they make camp. Hiccup and Heather scout out a location, protected by a cliff face from whatever might be on the island but open for easy flight. Snotlout’s delegated to fishing duty, Hookfang’s just simply the best at it and Fishlegs and Hiccup help collect firewood for Meatlug and Toothless to carry back. The twins are supposed to help, or find something for bedding so they disappear for a while too.

 

Astrid gets help down from Stormfly’s back and brushes her down for twenty minutes whilst Heather starts up the beginnings of a fire. The first fish is already cooking when Astrid feels the presence of someone (two someones, really) behind. She hums, putting Stormfly’s brush away before turning to her shadows.

  
"Your hair's a mess," Ruff says, not unkindly even though it's gruff. Astrid touches her hair, reaching up to a bird's nest of knots and feels shame burn deep in her stomach.

"It's fine," she starts, flustered more about the fact that she can't tell she looks horrid than actually looking horrid. It's weird, but it's like Astrid's losing control of herself. "It's okay. It's definitely fine like, that."

"Astrid," Ruff says, tone firm, "let me help."

"I'd let her, if I were you." Tuff adds, and he should know.

"Okay," Astrid breathes.

 

She sits somewhat awkwardly on the beach and Ruff rolls something to sit behind her. Tuff sits next to Astrid too, knee in her thigh and chatters away as he helps to brush the left side of her hair. There's something intimate and sacred about this, Ruff's deft fingers in Astrid's hair and Tuff holding pieces out of the way. Like an ancient Thorston ritual, a bonding moment. Astrid can imagine the twins as children, gap teeth and messy tunics, helping each other with their hair. It feels almost too much to be a part of this.

 

A hundred thousand sharp moments later, or perhaps fifteen minutes, Ruff announces "Done!" tying up the end of the intricate braid she had so carefully crafted. Astrid lifts her hands to feel again, but the bumps and whorls aren't easy to imagine without seeing them.

 

"It looks like if a hideous zippleback and a fireworm had a baby," Tuff helpfully supplies, Ruff obviously punches him because he goes sprawling with a "oof."

"Thanks guys," Astrid says, still touching her hair. "I'm sure it looks great."

 

When the boys come back later, they don’t say a thing like nothing’s changed and Astrid feels miffed. They dig straight into the fish after depositing their loads and washing their hands. Ruff doesn’t seem to mind and Tuff’s trying to convince Heather he’s a better cook than her (it’s debatable either way. Heather lived in the wilds by herself for a long time, her taste buds are shot to all hell. Astrid’s half convinced Tuff cooks bad on _purpose_.) so it doesn’t seem to matter, but.

 

The twins do a lot of thankless work. A _lot_ , and Astrid used to be convinced they were mostly lazy or trying to get out of work but living with them is changing her mind. Having them be the only ones to not treat her like she’s delicate now is a god’s send.

 

Astrid tucks into her own fish, and it’s not completely awful. She shares it with Stormfly, and Belch when he nudges at her hand even though she’s sure the twins have been feeding him plenty. She feels the heat of the fire on her skin, and warmth of Stormfly at her back and settles in to sleepily listen to discussion on the plan for the next day.

 

Tomorrow, they’re going to keep following the path until they find the End of the World and that’s all that really needs to be said. Astrid snuggles into Stormfly’s side and thinks about Sleuther prowling around at the Edge, protecting it as she had asked of him and roosting in her hut, sleeping too.

 

 

****

 

 

Astrid wakes at dawn, per usual even though she can’t tell in the same way and orients herself towards the brightest space. Seeing some definition between light and dark is useful, but it feels like a tease too. She misses watching the sun rise.

 

No one else makes noise to get up, the occasional snore from behind her before she requests Stormfly’s help to stand up. They clear a path, someway from the gang not to disturb them, and when Astrid’s fairly certain it’s as clear as a beach side can be she starts to jog it on her own. There’s only so much training she can do right now, _someone_ is surely going to start a hissy fit over this too but with Stormfly watching and the path in her mind Astrid’s happy to jog it back and forth.

She manages a solid half an hour before Hiccup’s yelling “Astrid, watch out!” as if she’s not perfectly aware there’s a mound of seaweed next to this stretch of the path.

“I’m fine,” she calls. She keeps jogging.

 

In the next moment Hiccup’s grabbing her arm and _pulling._ It jolts her step, shifting her to the side and she comes down weird on the next step. For one intense moment of surprise Astrid thinks she’s sprained her ankle, but settling it down there’s no burst of pain and she lashes out, anger bubbling up in her chest.

 

“What the Hel, Hiccup!” She demands. Her hand had hit something hard, and he’d let go of her so Astrid’s pretty sure she got him in the chest. It probably hurts, she should apologise.

“You could trip if you’re not careful Astrid,” Hiccup says. He’s trying not to sound winded. He’s not succeeding.

“I’m fine.” She repeats. She grits her teeth, holding a hand out for Stormfly. “I’m sorry for hitting you. I _am_ fine, though.”

 

Stormfly walks her back to the makeshift camp, slow and steady. Her ankle does hurt a little, and her heart is trying to beat out her chest but she _is_ fine. She is.

 

“Can you teach me that move?” Ruff asks as they get close. It startles Astrid into a laugh, she’s not even sure she knows what she did.

“Sure.”

 

The pack up is quick. Toothless uses one hardy wing to scoop sand over the smoldering embers of the fire and Heather’s very efficient at stringing up satchels. Astrid stands in the middle of the hubbub, unable to really help and just listens to the chatter and bickering. The twins steal Snotlout’s helmet, and get chased for it. Hookfang huffs out a laugh, not helping at all when Snotlout asks for it.

 

Meatlug comes up to talk to Astrid for a little while, her whole body wiggling as Astrid pats her. It’s calming and clearly intended to be distracting. Astrid murmurs compliments, crouching a little to lay long strokes over Meatlug’s shoulders and isn’t surprised at all when Fishlegs starts talking.

 

“You holding up okay?” Fishlegs asks. He sounds very careful but in a thoughtful way instead of like she’s a damsel in distress. Astrid can’t help but smile. It’s very Fishlegs.

“I’m okay ‘Legs,” she says. She actually is, aside from the mothering.

“We’re just. _Worried._ ” He adds, like Astrid’s not getting it.

 

“That’s fine, don’t baby me for it though.” Astrid gets it. She just doesn't like it. “Help me up, we’re about ready, right?”

 

Everyone is. It’s just Snotlout, fussing over his helmet and Hiccup consulting a map. The moment feels nervous again, churning up Astrid's stomach and she just wants to _leave._ It's time to go, she thinks, feet tapping against Stormfly's side.

 

"Okay, okay,” Hiccup says, muffled like he’s got something in his mouth. There’s another moment of silence, so heavy with tension before Hiccup adds “okay gang, let’s head off.”

“Finally!” Tuff calls out, contrary. Astrid barely hides her smile, stroking Stormfly’s neck to confirm the order. Let’s head off indeed.

 

The motion of wind gliding again feels familiar but exhilarating, stealing Astrid’s breath away as the updraft lifts and the wind catches them. The twins shriek, loud and happy and Astrid feels that way too. It’s like all that nervous energy bubbles into happiness and lodges in her throat.

 

“It’s this way!” Heather calls, mostly for Astrid and she lets the floaty feeling of being so high up sink into wrapping her arms around Stormfly. It’s going to be a long flight.

 

 

****

 

 

It’s been hours and Astrid’s backside is starting to get numb when suddenly, Stormfly pulls almost too fast to a stop, wing beats increasing to a hover. The only thing that stops Astrid from toppling straight over Stormfly’s head is that she’s gripping so hard around Stormfly’s neck.

 

“Holy _shit._ ” Snotlout says.

 

“ _What?_ ” Astrid asks, something desperate crawling up her throat as everyone sits there in stunned silence.

 

“The End of the World,” Fishlegs whispers. It sounds odd, Astrid’s been getting better at focusing on words instead of the wind and working out which dragon is which by wing beat so she’s pretty sure she shouldn’t have been able to hear Fishlegs. It’s, echoing.

“Holy _shit_ ,” Snotlout repeats. It breaks the other’s silence, a bunch of talking all at once and Astrid loses them in their echos. She sits and listens, paying attention to everything and behind the wind and the dragon movement and her friend’s voices there’s the sound of rushing water. It’s the sound of a waterfall, in the middle of the _ocean_.

 

“What are you all looking at?” Astrid demands, hands curling into fists in frustration against Stormfly’s neck. “Where is all the water going?”

 

Down, apparently. As far as the eye can see, into a rolling mist. Fishlegs describes it with awe, interspaced with comments from the rest of the gang. It sounds exactly like the End of the World.

 

“Let’s go then,” Astrid says, “what are we waiting for?”

 

Stormfly shifts in the wind column, the movement stilted as they drop down. It’s like nothing Astrid’s felt before, winding gripping everything it can as it races past, a fine spray of salt water. The noise is thunderous; rushing and roaring water straining at confines. It feels cool, like a foggy day on Berk and Astrid strains to hear the sound of the others. Everything feels muted, like they’re inside a cloud and Stormfly hovers, the motion of her wing beats solid.

 

“What is it girl?” Astrid asks, breathing in damp air. “Where’d everyone go?” Stormfly drops again, wings tucked in and Astrid grabs at her to hold on tight. A moment or seven later Stormfly’s wings flick out, catching the air and slowing their decent.

 

Noise seeps back in, the rustle of trees and screeches of some far off dragon. There’s bird chatter, an alarm call below as Stormfly circles. If Astrid really strains she can hear other wing beats, it’s only faint but there’s definitely grumbling so she’s sure the others are near. A beam of sunlight cuts through the murk, warm against Astrid’s skin and increasing as they fly onwards. Soon enough Stormfly lands, brushing past a couple of close trees.

 

“Again!” Tuff shouts, too close and too loud after all the silence. Astrid shoots the direction of him a glare, but predictably it slips right off.

“Again!” Ruff repeats, the both of them slipping into a chant like they’re a child who’s discovered how fun it is be thrown up in the air and caught again.

 

“Can you two not?” Snotlout demands. Astrid imagines he’s got his hands on his hips.

“This place is _incredible,_ ” Fishlegs starts, clearly ignoring the others. His voice is full of awe, Meatlug landing nearby with a loud thud. “I’ve never seen anything like that tree, or that one! Are you all seeing this? What is _that_ plant?”

“Well, I’m not seeing it.” Astrid adds, but it’s mostly lost in the other dragons landing and awed voices. Hiccup’s babbling excitedly alongside Fishlegs’ wowed descriptions, and Snotlout’s questions. The dragons are moving around, flashes of shadow in Astrid’s view and the sounds of large footsteps crushing foliage.

 

Stormfly’s standing still, Astrid perched on her back and unsure if she can get off safely. It feels isolating. Everyone’s exploring and experiencing and Astrid is relegated to second hand enjoyment. Astrid strokes down Stormfly’s neck and side, she should probably hop off so Stormfly can explore with the others.

 

“Hoff,” Tuff says, tugging at Astrid’s pant leg. She shifts towards himself, angling her body and looking generally downwards. He grips her elbow, tugging her arm down and she lets him, opening her hand when he tries to pry her fingers. “Here,” he adds in a tone Astrid’s sure is accompanied with a winning smile.

“Thanks,” she starts, but then looks down to her hand like she’ll be able to decipher what it is. “Ew, what is that?”

 

Tuff bursts into raucous laughter, hand slapping at his knee as he doubles over. He splutters out words that barely make any sense between his giggles. There's something _slimy_ and disgusting in Astrid's hand, slipping through her fingers. She stares, like the sheer horror at whatever this is will manifest her sight back.

 

"I can't believe you fell for that," Tuff gets out between breathless laughter, Astrid would throttle him if she could work out how to get off her dragon to do so. "Ruff said you wouldn't but by Loki, you did!"

"I'm going to kill you," Astrid promises, holding her hand stiffly out away from her side. She wants to wipe it off but she's only got her own clothes or Stormfly's side in reach. If she could get down, there would be the ground or some kind of foliage but she's too unsure about how she'd land.

"And _how_ are you going to do that exactly?" Tuff lords, before he obviously looks up at Astrid again and spills into a new batch of laughter. Astrid's going to _pour_ whatever this is down his _shirt._

 

"Here," Heather says, her hand taking Astrid's wrist and she wipes up the goop in Astrid's hand with a cloth.

"What _is_ it?" Astrid asks, almost afraid to know. "Thanks, though. I was thinking about wiping it on Tuff but I wasn't sure how."

"I think it's just pond scum," Heather replies, holding an arm out so Astrid can use it as a balance to swing her leg over and get down. "This place is, like nothing I've ever seen. There's a little stream over further which the twins were mucking around in."

"It felt like what I imagine Gronckle snot would." Astrid grimaces.

 

Heather lets Astrid slip a hand into the crook of her elbow, guiding but not pulling. She walks the clearing with Heather, picking up snippets of awe and discussion about plants about excited dragon huffs. There's rustling noises, feet movement or something small, Astrid's not sure but she stays diligent in case it's the twins and pond scum again.

 

"It's beautiful," Heather begins, the kind of tone she uses when she's speaking about Windshear. "It's lush and green, and I don't know how to explain any of this without saying it doesn't look like things we know. It's so. _Different._ There's a plant that looks like a fan, big fronds metres wide! There's one with leaves that look like a Scuttleclaw's spine. I saw a bird before that looked like the size of a Speed Stinger!"

 

"Hey, hey, _hey._ " Tuff calls, across the cleaning, "That's _hardly_ experiencing anything!"

"Absolutely not," Astrid snaps, hands up. She's not falling for pond scum round two.

"Seriously A," Tuff says, linking his hand through her elbow, "if you can't see it you should use your other senses to look at it all. Touch stuff. There's this plant we found that feels like Chicken's down, and one that looks like a Whispering Death! You should see if it's really as spiky as one!"

"I am not touching anything you think I should." Astrid probably _will._ Even if it's just for the pond scum revenge plan.

 

"Sure," Tuff calls her bluff, a smile in his words. Astrid lets herself, and Heather, be pulled over to where Ruff's making a racket about a tiny mouse thing she's found.

 

It is like a mouse, but slightly larger unbelievably soft in Astrid's hands and its tail is fluffy. It makes terrified little squeaking noises, especially when Barf leans over Astrid's shoulder and she lets it go, bending down to put it back in the undergrowth. Standing back up Astrid scratches Barf's chin, and then has to do Belch's as the twins excitedly yell about a weird coloured frog they've found now. Tuff touches his mouth after holding it and feels dizzy, so it was probably poisonous, and Heather tells the both of them off. Snotlout's joined in their exploration now, citing Hiccup and Fishlegs as nerds. He's ridiculously into these tiny dragons Ruff finds, kind of frog shaped and, according to Snotlout, the cutest little thing he's ever seen.

 

Whilst Tuff's sitting down from his dizzy spell Astrid manages to find this horrible smelling plant that oozes sticky sap and shoves a whole handful down the back of Tuff's tunic. He yelps so loudly Hiccup and Fishlegs come running, ready for action. Astrid laughs so hard she trips stepping backwards and half lands in a puddle, which starts Tuff laughing too. The two of them are banned from getting back up after that, sitting shoulder to shoulder as they wait for the poison's effects to wear off. Tuff sends everyone who will listen off to find cool things and bring them back so Astrid can learn what they look like by feel. But, only after he's whinged for several minutes in Astrid's ear about the tree sap. It was, apparently, actually bright red and stained the back of Tuff's neck and his tunic. Astrid hadn't known.

 

"It's a leaf of that Chicken down plant," Tuff starts, taking an empty snail shell Astrid had been turning over in her hands and passing a large frond that feels like velvet under her fingers. "It's really dark green on the top and it's sort of purple underneath. The edges are all bumpy. It looks cool."

"It _is_ like Chicken's down," Astrid says, stroking the leaf. It feels softer than the mouse creature she'd held early. "I wonder if you could use it as a blanket or pillow."

"Okay, next thing," Tuff interrupts. He hands over another leaf, but this one is ribbed. "It's really round and stripy. It's got two tones of green, one bright and the other very silvery."

 

Astrid's just about to comment on the texture when Hiccup's voice interrupts this time; "I think it's best we move on gang."

 

There's groans all round. All of this had been so fun, so exciting - like the adventures from when they were still dumb kids - it was easy to forget why they were here. Even for Astrid, and even though sitting here and just _experiencing_ is nothing like she normally would be doing.

 

"Really H?" Ruff whines. There's a chorus of agreement.

"We're here to find the Well of Eir," Hiccup states, firmly. "We've got to keep going. We can look at all this stuff properly once Astrid's sight is restored."

"Hiccup's right," Fishlegs adds, although he sounds as forlorn as the rest of the gang about it.

"We _can_ keep looking as we go, and on the way." Heather proposes, and Astrid guesses the fun's been drained out of the moment anyway now. She stands up, using Tuff's shoulder to steady herself and gains an exaggerated wince for it.

 

"We don't all need to go, just saying." Snotlout suggest, but he's quickly shut down. "Hey! I was just _saying!_ "

"It's fine," Astrid says. "We should keep going."

 

Hiccup wants to keep flying, but the cloud cover is low and very easy to get lost in. He ends up circling around, even with Toothless' careful navigation. The dragons all prick up their sense and are very quiet in the clouds, it's unsettling and gives Astrid a funny feeling so walking is fine by her. There's something off about those clouds, like someone's watching.

 

It's a little hard to tell which way's north now the sun's gone behind the clouds again but Hiccup has some fancy magnetic thing he and Fishlegs made out of Gronkle iron and the dragons seem to know. They set off in that direction, slowly making their way onward. The pace is enough that there's plenty to stare at and describe, Tuff still fetching Astrid things to touch as he explains them. He cons Snotlout into it, betting Snotlout's not as good at finding weird things as both the twins combined. It's a losing bet but Snotlout's determined. Ruff's already found a plant with a belly full of bugs and a slimy little newt that makes a sound like a tiny Monstrous Nightmare. He's not as good at descriptions either, but Tuff takes up the slack, wild and unhelpful explanations running way with him.

 

Later, when it's getting darker and Fishlegs has finished documenting flora for the moment he joins the game, scientific descriptions providing not that much more help. Especially when he uses words like "pinnate" and "lamina" that Astrid doesn't know. But, Meatlug is a great guide and Astrid lets Stormfly play up ahead with Windshear whilst she leans against the sturdy Gronckle.

 

"Hiccup's being a stick in the mud," Heather says at one point, loud enough that Hiccup can hear. He doesn't respond but about ten minutes later he's calling for everyone to make camp.

"Finally," Snotlout mutters, and the after a pause, "not that I was tired or anything. You guys might be, so I'm glad we're stopping for _you._ "

"I'm bushed!" Tuff says, slightly slurred. He picked up another brightly coloured frog and touched his eye this time. It had stung and he'd touched his mouth to hold in a yelp. Fishlegs had confirmed it was like the Speed Stinger poison, so it'd wear off, but Tuff's descriptions had been a lot less useful after that.

 

"Is this place defensible?" Astrid asks, because other than Heather she's the only one who asks the important questions.

"Yes Astrid," Hiccup replies, terse. "Snotlout and Ruff, can you gather _dry_ wood please. Nothing new, we don't want smoke. Fishlegs, help me look for something that'll be edible. We don't know these plants - _or_ these animals - so we need to be careful. Heather, water duty, plus look out for supplementary food. We should have rations still, but stretching them out will help."

"What am I doing?" Astrid knows, because it's how Hiccup's been treating her ever since but hearing it is still appreciated. She'd like a job, too, even if she won't be assigned one. She can make her own.  

"You and Tuff can stay put. Neither of you are in a good condition to go wandering around."

 

"Okay." Astrid says, "I'll babysit Tuff."

"Hey!" Tuff says, scandalised but as the sounds of everyone moving away fades he laughs. "Everyone got a raw deal but us."

"Finding water is hardly a raw deal." Astrid can't help but smile, bending down carefully and putting her hands out to feel around where it's safe to sit down.

"You're right," Tuff agrees, much to Astrid's surprise until he adds, "those cool frogs are probably around there."

 

Astrid laughs. A third dose of frog poison isn't probably in Tuff's best interests but the frogs did sound interesting. Apparently the first one was black and bright blue and hopped in such a funny way Tuff giggled as he held it. The second had been all yellow, golden like a sunrise and Tuff had named it Thor for the colour. That sacrilege was probably why he got the poison in both his eye and his mouth.

 

"Don't think we've finished touching-seeing practice little missy!" Tuff announces, disrupting the silence and plonking down beside Astrid.

"What practice?" Astrid says, mostly because she wants to make him cringe at the phrasing. It doesn't work.

"It's all well and good to learn _new_ things by touch but if you want to really see maybe you should learn what something that you already _know_ what it looks like."

"Like what?" They're in a mystical new land where nothing is familiar. But, sure. Learning something she already knew.

 

"Uhhhhhh, uhhhhh, uh?" Tuff mumbles, the sound of his voice growing fainter and then getting loud again like he's shifted around. Astrid can't help but smile at him clearly not being prepared for this actual situation. "The dragons?"

 

"Sure," Astrid says. She whistles for Stormfly, and a moment later Stormfly comes tearing out of the forest, thunderous footfall. She settles down next to Astrid, curling up around Astrid’s body and resting against Tuff's knee. Astrid starts at the top of her head, tracing the scales there and Tuff starts describing. He needn't, really. Astrid knows her dragon like the back of her hand but Stormfly's clearly into the inadvertent praise and preens under the touch.

 

Once Astrid’s finished going over Stormfly’s features to Tuff’s satisfaction he calls over Barf and Belch. The Zippleback settles on their other side, heads in laps and Tuff starts the exercise again, naming colours and features as Astrid traces them. He’s not always helpful (Astrid has _no idea_ what a “do-thingy, you know? The head bump,” is) but it’s soothing and she falls into the motion. When the others make their way back he conscripts Meatlug into the cuddle pile for pats, a completely new texture under Astrid’s fingers. The next night, after another day of trekking through the End of the World, it’s Windshear’s turn and then Toothless. On the third, Hookfang cuddles in even before Astrid’s fully settled in and she shares her cooked fish with him as Tuff talks with his mouth full. Stormfly wants in again, and Astrid falls asleep curled up in attentive dragons with Tuff’s head pillowed on her shoulder.

 

 

****

 

 

Astrid wakes on the fourth day to a crick in her neck and hair in her face. She shifts, stretching out her arms and stops with a jolt as she accidentally smacks Tuff right in the stomach. He grumbles in his sleep, rolling from his careful position on Astrid's shoulder to land with a thump on the ground. Astrid's halfheartedly considering laughing at the whole thing when he darts up, wild expression.

 

"No one saw that," he says, half to himself. He's close enough Astrid can feel his movements, the hand he pushes up through his hair, the extra dramatic exhale and scrubbing at his face. She feels the moment he realises someone else is awake, a sharp intake of breath and then, "H? You alright?"

"You sleep okay?" Hiccup 's voice is low, either from whispering or from being far away. He sounds like he didn't sleep.

"Nah, not really. Astrid's a _terrible_ pillow. So bony."

 

"Don't sleep next to her then," Hiccup suggests and the way he says it makes Astrid think _enough._

 

She yawns, loudly and stretches again, turning over. She tries to think about how she naturally wakes up, but comes up short so she just pushes herself up and tries for a bleary look at the others. She doesn't know if she succeeds, but she rubs at her eyes with the palms of her hands and yawns again, for real this time. "Well, that was uncomfortable."

"A, you're a horrible pillow." Tuff announces, too cheerfully for the moment Astrid just interrupted but with the exact amount someone who uses the alarm system for a morning talk show would have.

"Fuck off," Astrid grins. It's probably the light, shadows are more dramatic at lower angles, but the general lump of a shape that makes up Tuff seems more distinct. "I think I'm going to hack up a hairball after having your hair in my face all night."

 

"Morning Astrid," Hiccup says. Astrid turns towards the direction of his voice.

"Good morning Hiccup." Astrid says. She pauses, not sure what else to add. The silence between them fills the air in a way the screech of birds and dragons in the forest around them does not.

"Well, what's for breakfast?" Tuff asks, completely oblivious to any tension, rolling straight over it. "I'm _starving._ "

"Yeah Hiccup," Astrid joins in, "What's for breakfast?"

 

The others wake up as more fish is cooking in left over embers from the night before. Heather is first, alert and ready to go. She gets up to help, adding some plant or another to make it taste better. She and Hiccup argue over usage, but neither of them really know that much about these plants so it’s mostly friendly bickering. Whatever tension was left bleeds away as some of the dragons wake up; Hookfang dumping a bleary-eyed Snotlout onto the ground to nose around the fish and Toothless coming over for more of the descriptive pats.

 

Ruff’s grumpy when Tuff wakes her up, swearing at him with a mouth worse than Astrid’s but smoked fish settles her down quickly. Fishlegs is the last to get up and the brightest of them all, searching for rocks for Meatlug to snack on. The rest of the dragons are happy to catch their own, but even happier for snacks and Snotlout accuses Astrid of bribing their dragons. She laughs, Barf licking the last of her breakfast from her hand. They try this odd but sweet smelling fruit once the fish is all gone, it’s fleshy and soft and tastes mild. There’s tiny seeds that get stuck between their teeth and Tuff tries the peel but apparently it’s _awful._

 

 

Astrid thinks about mentioning the world's a little more defined, at least in terms of dark and light but she remembers Hiccup's terseness and the amount of effort this whole journey is. She thinks about guiding hands and how she's getting used to people grabbing her by the elbow and how she might never get to be put back on the Berk Guard when they get home.

 

"A," Tuff nudges Astrid's arm, distracting her from her thoughts. She half turns towards his general direction. "You want some more?" Astrid just has to trust it's _actually_ the fruit and not something disgusting instead. It's likely to be either.

"I think it's probably time to head off." Hiccup states, too quick, over the top of Astrid's reply. She takes the offered fruit, deliberately slow.

"Thanks Tuff," she says.

 

Hiccup clears his throat. It's a small noise, but it sounds so like Stoick just before he addresses the war council or a room that it's momentarily confusing. Astrid looks up, catching the shift of a shadow.

 

"Girl time," Heather says, interrupting, and from experience Astrid knows she's making a face. Her hand loops into Astrid's arm, tugging her away. For a moment, Astrid hesitates and then thinks she and Heather really need to start up a new way to communicate non-verbally. Facial expressions aren't great if you're blind.

"Ruff, are you coming?" Astrid calls, looking over to where she thinks Ruff was last.

"Uh," Ruff says. Astrid _wishes_ she could see her expression, wants to know all the things she's missing in this conversation.

"Yeah," Heather adds, squeezing Astrid's arm. "You coming Ruff?"

  
“I’m invited too right?” Tuff calls out, only a quarter sounding like he’s joking. Ruff squawks, clearly elbowing him in the stomach because Tuff squawks a moment later, much less dignified.

“No way,” Ruff says, “ _girl time._ ”

 

"What are we supposed to do?" Snotlout calls.

"Figure a faster way along or something." Heather calls back. From experience Astrid _knows_ she's rolling her eyes.

 

The both of them link arms with Astrid, supporting but not pulling. Or, at least, not pulling until Ruff sees a cool tree or something sparkly and tugs off in that direction. Astrid laughs, pulling Heather along and half trips over a tree root. Heather laughs too, steadying Astrid’s decent so it’s only a stumble.

 

They end up in what Ruff describes as a gemstone clearing, which doesn’t make much sense until Astrid’s resting against a tree and touching the grass. It’s got funny little hard berries unlike anything anyone’s seen that apparently sparkle in the sunlight and look like gems. Astrid lets Ruff fill her pockets with them to bring back later, chatting idly about how odd everything at the End of the World looks, but how wonderful.

 

Ruff’s half way through the description of a small dragon species when Heather interrupts with a blurted “what’s up with you and Hiccup now?”

“Wait, _what_?” Ruff asks, no one’s ever sounded as scandalised as she does right now. “Astrid and Hiccup? I don’t see it.”

 

“Come on,” Heather says, “haven’t you see the way Hiccup looks at Astrid?”

“Who pays attention to what boys think?” Ruff scoffs, and Astrid laughs. Who indeed. “But I guess they’re both bossy all the time.”

 

“Hey!” Astrid yelps, but Ruff’s kind of right so she doesn’t argue the point.

“They’re pretty perfect for each other,” Heather says. There’s a poignant pause before she adds, “or at least, I used to think they were. Now, I’m not so sure.”

 

“Hiccup’s just being,” Astrid starts. She hasn’t been thinking about this much because when she does she feels so _angry._ She feels angry in the same way she felt angry at five, furious at everyone who laughed at Uncle Finn, furious that she wasn’t allowed to help kill the Flightmare, furious that she was too little, too useless to help. The way he brushes off her ability to do anything makes her blood boil and his reluctant concessions makes her stomach tie up into knots. Sometimes, she doesn’t trust herself blind at all and it’s so overwhelming she wants to curl up and do nothing, but knowing Hiccup doesn’t believe she can handle herself just fine makes her so mad she can take on the whole world. “Unsupportive.”

 

Unsupportive, lacking in faith, believing the worst of Astrid. She needs help now, but she doesn’t need pity or a keeper.

 

“He’s being a right little terror turd,” Ruff clarifies, in case Heather doesn’t get it. Heather reaches out to grip Astrid’s hand, squeezing it. “All this ‘ _Astrid can’t do that’_ and _‘Astrid can’t do this’_ and _‘Astrid needs to stay behind for her Safety_ ’ as if Astrid hasn’t been a responsible adult since like eight years old.”

“I wasn’t an adult at eight years old,” Astrid says, but she’s not so sure now. Their world then, had been about dragon killing, about struggling to survive the night and then the next night and the one after that. It wasn’t a world for children.

“Really?” Heather asks, squeezing Astrid’s hand again.

 

“Yeah,” the nonchalance feels real in Ruff’s words, but it feels kind of put on too. Astrid remembers the night when she’d learnt really what a dragon could do. All the children where huddled in the Great Hall, it was a bad dragon attack. Tuff was hiding his face in Ruff’s shoulder because they had dosed all the fires, making it pitch black and Astrid held his hand as she watched the shape of Brynhild in the moonlight carefully. Brynhild was ten years older than them and did basic training in the dragon killing arena with them and Astrid thought she was the _coolest thing ever._ One day, Astrid was going to grow up just like Brynhild.

 

Except, Brynhild didn’t get to grow up any further. Some idiot lead a dragon into the Great Hall, by accident they swore. Astrid doesn’t remember what it was, only that it was huge and mean and its fire melted Brynhild’s skin. She remembers the terrified faces of everyone around her, of Fishlegs throwing up and Tuff whimpering into Ruff’s neck. The others liked her less after that, but killing a dragon was more important than people liking her. Training and working hard was always more important. Maybe she did grow up too early. Maybe the twins didn’t want to grow up at all in response.

 

“You were _hardcore,_ ” Heather says. She squeezes Astrid’s hand for the third time, long and hard this time and Heather only thinks that because Heather had to grow up quick too. She smiles anyway.

“She was alright for a stick in the mud.” Ruff concedes. Astrid reaches out to grab Ruff’s hand, although she misses at first before taking hold and squeezing both their hands.

 

“If this well water can’t cure me, I’m blind forever and I don’t want to be with someone who treats me like Hiccup’s treating me.” Astrid says. “If I _do_ get my sight back I don’t know if I want to be with someone who would treat me so terribly if I was disabled in some way. None of us treated Hiccup like this when he lost a leg.”

 

 

****

 

 

“It’s dangerous, but we _could_ fly through the trees.” Fishlegs suggests. There’s a scratching noise, a twig sketching out flight patterns and thoughts into the dirt.

“Your dragon _hovers,_ ” Snotlout points out, “flying through tight trees is fine and dandy if you’re floating around and can stop on an ink dot.”

“I said it was dangerous!” Fishlegs squeaks. A shadow falls over Astrid's face quickly, like Fishlegs is waving his hands around.

 

“The dragons _are_ capable of it, ‘Lout.” Hiccup offers. Astrid predicts the next argument to be alongside the complaint of speed. “You just have to stay on the dragon.”

 

There’s an awkward moment of tension where no one even seems to dare to breath. Astrid can’t see them all looking at her but she just knows it’s happening. No one makes a move to add to the conversation, neither to explain or justify.

 

“Yeah, yeah.” Astrid says. “I know lately my track record isn’t the best. Not especially now, where I _can’t_ actually see what's going on.”

“Why isn’t it the best lately? You okay Astrid?” Heather’s the first to talk, and Astrid loves her for the concern. At least _somebody_ had some kind of thought to question what was going on instead of thinking it was fine she just was falling of her dragon all the time.

“I’m fine, I think it was my saddle conditioner, very slippery. I’ve changed the polish now so I’m good - I haven’t fallen once since I lost my sight!” Astrid explains. “But, through forest might be a bit much.”

 

“We could try above again?” Fishlegs offers, although not like he truly believes in the option. “If we go when the cloud cover is non existent we could fly a fair way before it comes back in and messes with our senses again. Someone could hold a lantern just in case it comes in quick.”

“That’s a big if Fishlegs.” Hiccup replies. It’s a medium if, really. “I think your idea of flying through the forest relies a _lot_ less on whether or not the weather is being nice and other circumstantial instances. We just do it, and for most of the day. If things start to get foggy we have to stop for the, or start walking again.”  

 

“For the record, I prefer the flying above plan.” Snotlout says.

“We’re in a _hurry._ We don’t really have time to waste hoping the sky’s going to clear. We’ve already wasted _days_ walking around.” Hiccup shoots back. “Heather, what do you think?”

 

“Hey, how come no one’s asked _our_ opinion?” Ruff butts in. Tuff makes several noises of agreement.

“No one asked my opinion either.” Astrid mentions and both twins make similar noises to punctuate the point.

 

“I think Windshear’s fully capable and happy to fly through the trees.” Heather ignores them. She’s patting Windshear if Astrid’s picked up the noises of human skin against different dragon skin correctly. “Aren’t you girl?”

“Again, not everyone’s dragons are super fast and able to just flit around between really tight trees!” Snotlout counters. He’s likely to have just crossed his arms. “I have the biggest dragon and I _don’t_ want Hooky getting a wing tear just because Hiccup wants to save time.”

“If you think you, or Hookfang, aren’t up to the job stay put or walk it.” Heather replies, just this side of too casual that Astrid knows she’s playing Snotlout.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Sure.” She offers.

“Fine.” Snotlout rises to the bait. “We can do the forest flying, if you want.”

 

“Perfect.” Hiccup speaks over the both of them before it devolves into friendly fisticuffs. “We can start forest flying tomorrow. It’ll be slower than normal flying so there are no wing tears but definitely faster than on foot. We can cover a lot more ground this way. We can scout a little more with quick darts up to the open sky. Any questions?”

Tuff raises his hand. He waits until Hiccup acknowledges him before speaking. “Literally no one has asked our opinion.”

“Okay, fine.” Hiccup sounds annoyed and it bothers Astrid a lot. Did he always sound so put out by genuine requests to be included? “That’s not a question, but Tuff, Ruff, what’s your opinion on forest flying?”

 

“Well,” Tuff starts, sounding a little like he’s about to go on a long tangent and Hiccup sighs. Ruff obviously elbows Tuff because he squawks and then clears his throat. “First of all, you haven’t asked Astrid’s opinion either. And secondly, we have a two headed dragon.”

“Yeah, we could become a knotted rope around a tree if things go south.” Ruff continues, “at least listen to _all_ the dragon differences complaints.”

 

Hiccup sighs again, longer than the last and Astrid wonders if that’s a mechanism from before he was Berk’s golden boy because it’s sure not thoughtful leadership. Although, Stoick could get a little like that sometimes, especially when it came to bullheaded vikings and fish slapping to solve disputes so maybe it’s just a Haddock thing. Astrid knows she was, and maybe still is, like that. Being stuck on the Edge with only Tuff to defend it really set in motion a radical worldview shift, and sitting in the here and now with the most basic of sight is opening her eyes in a different way.

  

“I’m sure the both of you can work it out,” Hiccup says. Astrid doesn’t know if he’s doing it this time, but she’s used to seeing him rub at his temple like he’s getting a headache. “Barf and Belch can handle the trees, but you can walk if you’d like. Or even fly low over the trees. Remember, we _really_ need to get moving _faster._ Every second out here is another Astrid can’t see and another we’re not at the Edge.”

 

“We’ve been walking without a hurry for days,” Ruff points, half mumbled and Hiccup ignores it. The silence between everyone just elongates until Hiccup breathes out sharp and happy. Astrid has a lot to say, trying to gather up all the thoughts in her head about urgency and pushing the mission faster and about how the A team is perfectly capable at looking after the the Edge.

 

“Astrid, you can ride with me.” Hiccup begins, and she’s sure he’s got a long winded perfectly reasonable explanation but all of the whole situation makes her blood boil.

“ _Excuse_ me?” She asks, speaking over the top of Hiccup. He stops, and Astrid can’t see _any_ of the cues she’d normally follow and it _aches._ She misses being able to talk without talking, she misses her sight and she misses everyone treating her like normal.

“Look, Astrid,” Hiccup’s words are more careful than Fishlegs is being. “You can’t see and you falling off in the middle of a forest and getting injuries just isn’t worth any bit of pride. Everyone being safe is the most important thing.”  

“Why are you bringing this up _again?_  I’ve ridden on Stormfly without my sight before, and I’ve been doing it for days!” Astrid complains, crossing her arms defensively over her chest. Why does he insist on rehashing these kinds of arguments. Astrid'll rehash her own points a million times if she has to. “Remember early dragon training when you _made_ us ride blindfolded through the northern forest on Berk? We’ve done this before!”

 

“This isn’t Berk, it’s a strange new place we don’t know anything about and you can’t take off a blindfold if it gets bad!” The words almost explode of Hiccup’s mouth, and Astrid hates every single one of them for being right. "Over the ocean was different too - at least you're cushioned if you fall!" 

“It’s a reasonable request,” Fishlegs adds before Astrid can yell herself and everything inside of her is protesting. They’re right, _they’re right,_ and it’s not fair. Who cares if they’re right, they shouldn’t talk to her like she’s _useless._ Her eyes prickle and her throat feels suspiciously tight. After everything, she can’t add crying to the list of horrible things happening lately.

“Fine, I’ll ride with _Heather._ ” She concedes. Her voice wobbles a little, but she ignores it and pushes herself up. There’s a flutter of movement, like everyone reaching for her to steady her steps. She pulls away from the first set of hands and whistles for Stormfly.

“Astrid,” Heather says, gentle. She’s just standing nearby as Stormfly presses into Astrid’s outstretched hand. “Do you need someone to go with you?”

“I’m fine,” Astrid replies, offering a crooked smile. Heather gets being sidelined too. “I’m just going to go cool off.”

 

Cooling off is, of course, throwing things at innocent plants. Target practice really, and Astrid has really been slacking lately. She doesn’t have an axe on her, and Stormfly’s only got one satchel on her saddle so Astrid sticks with the knife from her boot. It’s on the small side, ornate in an understated way and it had been a present. It makes a satisfying thud as it hits the trunk of a tree several metres away, blade biting deep into the wood with the power of the throw.

 

It’s about the thirteenth throw when Astrid feels settled enough to rant, tugging the knife out with too much strength to half topple her. Stormfly hovers, her footsteps following Astrid back and forth from the tree and back. “Bloody Hiccup,” Astrid says, “bloody Fishlegs and their stupid fucking _risk_ assessment, and reasons and lack of faith. Fuck all of them, fuck _all_ of that.”

 

She holds the knife carefully, spinning it around between two fingers but just as she goes to throw again there’s a noise to her right and it’s so close it startles her. The knife goes flying off and for a second Astrid’s torn between listening to it land or for whatever’s nearby. The knife does actually hit a tree, the dull thud of the handle hitting wood instead of the blade. The creature, whatever it is, takes that moment to dash off, crashing through the bracken surrounding them.

 

“Damn,” Astrid says. She feels even more wired than before, too aware of the forest noise around her and her failure to do the one thing she’s been confident in for her whole life. “Stormfly, did you see where the knife went?” Stormfly obviously _did_ because she brushes up against Astrid as she walks past. Astrid places a hand on her flank and follows.

 

It’s a fair way further into the forest, and not the tree Astrid had been hitting before but she at least still hit something. Stormfly stops and Astrid squats to touch the ground tenderly. It’s only quick brushes of fingertips and she finds a couple of sticks before she hits carved wood and grabs.

 

“Fuck!” Astrid calls as her hand closes around the wrong end of the blade. She bolts up, knife forgotten and clutches at her hand. “Dragon breath! Yak dung! _Fuck,_ fucking fuck.” She kicks the tree she missed. It does nothing but make Astrid angrier and she kicks again, harder. Pain blooms in her foot and she swears again, letting her cut hand curl into a fit and slam it against the wood.

 

“For Thor’s sake,” she says and she ignores how choked up she sounds, even though it’s almost impossible to to ignore the moisture pooling in her eyes. She rests her forehead against the tree, injured hand curled up tight against the tree still. She can feel blood dripping from between the spaces of her fingers and she wants to ignore it too. “Can everything - can _I_ \- not prove them right? Can I maybe just be fine without being able to see, can I just prove I’m _enough_ for once? Can the world stop changing the rules all the time so I can be good at something? Why am I never enough?”

 

The tree, or the gods, or anything don’t answer. There’s only the forest noises and Stormfly’s worried pacing. Astrid sighs, pulling away from the tree and turning around to sit down against. Stormfly shifts to sit down next to Astrid, leaning heavily on her and Astrid shifts to accommodate a better sitting position for both of them. The motion has Astrid’s boot hitting something and with her non-injured hand Astrid picks up her knife properly this time. She doesn’t know why that’s the damn breaker but the tears start and she sits there, holding the knife away from herself and bawling her eyes out.

 

When she’s finished, hollow inside and headache-y, she wipes the blade off in the bracken and cuts a strip of her tunic into a makeshift bandage. Stormfly’s pack has some water, and it’s probably a waste not to drink it but Astrid uses it wash her injured hand. There’s a slice in the middle of her palm, tender and still oozing blood slowly. She wraps the tunic strip around her hand, putting maybe too much pressure but the squeeze as she ties it up is comforting. Stroking down Stormfly’s face in a motion that usually gets Stormfly relaxed and sleepy is soothing for Astrid too and she sits and focuses on that. The forest is getting colder, her hand is throbbing with pain, but she might just wait until someone comes to find her.

 

It takes twenty more minutes but the sounds of boot crunching through the bracken and grass slowly get louder and louder. Stormfly perks up, and Astrid knows it’s Tuff without a word being said. The steps stop, and Astrid infers there’s a nervousness to the air that she can’t actually see.

 

“Hey Tuff,” she calls. Her injury is probably obvious, what with the ruined tunic and the badly made bandage, but right now Tuff’s probably the only one she can stomach knowing about it.

“How did you know it was me?” Tuff says with the kind of awe he reserves for very large explosions and dangerous looking dragons.

“Magic,” Astrid says. It’s a less embarrassing answer than saying she just _knows_ him.

 

“I always thought the Hoffersons had some witchcraft blood,” Tuff replies, conversationally. He walks the rest of the way through and drops down in front of Astrid to pat Stormfly too. “Turid Hofferson always gave me these _vibes,_ like she’d make all my teeth fall out for hanging around the clearing nearest to her house. It really has the best bluebells in all of Berk, I was’t trying to steal pies! I swear her cats were following me around for about two months!”

“Witch Vibes?” Astrid laughed, astounded. “Tuff, you have a blabbermouth and Aunt Turid didn’t want some of the grandma’s side of the family to know she was living with another woman. The cats probably followed you because sometimes you and Ruff use fish oil to wash your hair.”

“I still think she’s a witch.” Tuff shrugs. “I sort of wanted her to teach me potions or something.”

 

“You’re ridiculous,” Astrid says. It’s not supposed to sound as fond as it does.

“Thanks!” Tuff replies. “Speaking of potions, salves are _great,_ do you want one on your hand? I mean, we’ll have to make do because honestly what are these plants but I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“You’re not experimenting herb effects on me.” Astrid warns.

“Fine, be boring!” Tuff turns to Stormfly and adopts a baby talk tone. “You’d let me give you weird ass plants to help you out, wouldn’t you darling?”

“You’re not experimenting herb effects on Stormfly.” Astrid adds when Stormfly perks up at the attention. She likely has no idea what Tuff’s saying but she’s definitely into pats and pet names.

 

“I could give you a clean bandage then.” Tuff offers, voice sincere. Astrid tilts her head down to mimic looking at her hand.

“Do you have a clean bandage?” Astrid’s not convinced but then Tuff pulls something out a pocket with a flourish so maybe he does.

“Of course I have a clean bandage.” Tuff says, enough sarcasm in his voice he’s clearly rolling his eyes. “I always have one. Ruff said I wasn’t allowed to attempt Changewing mimicry if I didn’t have at least one bandage.”

 

Astrid lets Tuff unwrap the makeshift tunic bandage from around her palm, one of his big hands cradling hers as he works. It sticks a little, and by the noise Tuff makes the blood has seeped through the original bandage. He washes it with what’s left of the canteen of water, decanting it over her palm and gently scrubbing around the wound with a thumb.

 

“It looks deep.” He says. He doesn’t ask what it’s from, although Astrid knows the edge is straight and obviously from a knife. “It’s a bit hard to see right now so maybe it’ll look better in the morning though! In any case it’s stopped bleeding.” He wraps Astrid’s hand up with a soft strip of fabric, winding around and around and tying it back up with a knot Astrid probably can’t get off by herself.

“Thanks,” Astrid says, softly. She takes her hand back and holds it in her lap as Tuff shifts to settle in beside her. Astrid feels all choked up again, and Tuff seems happy with the silence, at least for the moment.

 

It’s getting colder, and Astrid’s been sitting for so long she’s probably stiff but she doesn’t want to go back yet, or any time soon. Tomorrow they’re going to wake up and Astrid has to take a back seat, and everyone’s doing _so_ much for her. It’s too much.

 

“I want to be able to see again,” she says. Tuff makes a noise of interest. “It, _sucks._ So much. I miss looking at all the colours of Stormfly’s scales, and being able to tell if I’ve spilt something on my clothes and seeing the emotion in people’s faces. I don’t like being treated like this either, like I’m fragile and too stupid to be able to handle myself. I hate having to rely on everyone all the time. And you are all doing so much for me, this whole thing is taking weeks, taking time we don’t have to spare.”

“You’d do the same for us.” Tuff says, and then offers to take actual payment for it. Astrid bumps their shoulders together.

“I’m scared this isn’t going to work.” Astrid’s worried about all of this situation.  “What if we get there and it’s just water? Mineral water maybe. Half the cure-alls Trader Johann tries to sell us are just water with minerals in it. That doesn’t cure anything. What if we go to all this trouble and I’m just as blind as before?”

 

“You’re a bit better though, aren’t you?” Tuff says, shrewdly. Astrid thinks about brushing it off, but he’s right. Gothi’s poultice had helped, if only in a small way, and things seem. More defined. It’s likely nothing.

“It’s probably nothing. I’m getting used to being like this.” Astrid says. She puts her hand up to rest her face against and winces when it’s the injured one. She swaps hands. “In any case, what happens if I fail everyone but not even managing to fix myself with the Well of Eir? Do we stop? Does Hiccup demand we follow him as he chases another far fetched inkling of possibility that he can fix me like a blunt blade or one of his inventions? What happens when I stay broken forever?”

 

“You are a person, you know. Not the Dragon Fly One, or the pulley system on the well. ” Tuff offers, quiet like he thinks maybe Astrid doesn’t know that. Maybe Astrid _doesn’t._ She feels a hysterical laugh getting caught in her throat.

 

“What happens if it _does_ fix me?” Astrid asks, her voice strung out and too high. This maybe scares her more than anything. “Things have already been messed up, we can’t rewind time and start back from before the lightning. Do we go back to normal? Do I _want_ to go back to how we were existing before? Do I go back to being cold and removed and mean like I’m made up of pieces of scrap from the forge? How do we reconcile this future with these past wants and ideals?”

“An _entire_ person. Dreams and goals and the ability to change too.” Tuff continues. He knocks their shoulders together. Astrid doesn’t feel like she deserves a second more of his patience.

 

“I worked so hard to be the best dragon slayer Berk had ever seen, and Hiccup took that world from us. It’s good that he did, I’m glad of our new world but trying to find second place behind Hiccup, who was making all the rules was hard.” Astrid breathes out, it feels like the cold air she breathes in could freeze her inside out. “And I was trying - the Berk Guard _is_ important to me. I said yes when Hiccup wanted to change the rules again, because I missed running around with all of you, but I know he was just being selfish. We were all doing great, he just can’t face his own truth. I’ve been trying to face mine and the entire world keeps changing the rules and I don’t know if I have a truth now.

 

“Who am I?” Astrid asks, and by Odin’s beard that’s the crux of the situation. Who is she without her sight? Who is she now she knows what she knows?

“You’re exactly who you’re meant to be.” Tuff says. Astrid can’t help it, she just _has_ to kiss him. She reaches out, hand landing half on his neck and half on his chin and uses the awkward placing to tilt his head down and press a kiss to his forehead.

 

“I’m sorry for every time I made fun of your ideas, or didn’t listen to what you and Ruff had to say.” Astrid says, and she hopes she sounds as sincere as she feels. “It was cruel and misguided and I shouldn’t have treated the two of you like that. We’re friends, I should act like a better one.”

“Thank you,” Tuff replies with the same kind of seriousness. And then he adds, “I’m sorry for leaving a rotten herring in your bed that time when we were twelve.”

“You did _what?_ ” Astrid bursts out, mouth falling open. “Oh, you’re gonna _get_ it.”

 

Tuff falls into his laughter, rocking back to duck away from Astrid’s non-injured hand and pushes himself up. He takes absolute delight in being able to leg it easily away from Astrid and she bolts after him, a startled Stormfly by her side.

 

 

****

 

 

Heather obviously senses Astrid’s not in the mood to talk to she hustles breakfast along. The sun is, thankfully, out and it’s prime flying time so it’s not long before Astrid’s sitting behind her on Windshear with arms wrapped around her waist. When Astrid, Tuff and Stormfly had gotten back to camp the night before everyone had already been asleep and the continued lack of questioning is a godsend.

 

Astrid can’t see anything anyway, not even the shadowy shapes of trees well, so she just buries her face into Heather’s shoulder blade and holds on. The wind rips and pulls at her hair, and Heather’s a dangerous flier, so she gets poked with branches at least five times before they all stop for lunch.

 

Apparently Astrid’s still giving of hostile vibes, so the conversation is mostly pleasant descriptions of the landscape around them. They’re moving out of the cold temperate bracken to a more grass based groundcover and the trees are looking a little more familiar. At the very Edge of the World where the ocean had bled into the sky everything had been lush and very salty to the taste, and Fishlegs is apparently making a vegetation map.

 

“Here,” Snotlout says, depositing a cold-to-touch metal container in Astrid’s hands.

“What is it?” Astrid turns it over, feeling the edge and pulls the lid up and over.

“Burn cream. Sometimes Hookfang forgets not all of us are covered in Monstrous Nightmare salvia.” Snotlout pauses, presumably to send a glare Hookfang’s way. “It’s a poultice to help reduce burns and keep them from getting infected. It’ll help stop infections for anything really.”

“Thanks Snotlout, this is really thoughtful.” Astrid’s touched.

“Yeah well, whatever.”

 

They pack up soon after and get back up in the air. Hiccup offers to let Astrid ride with him, but Astrid brushes him off to hang out with Heather again. Most of the words get whipped away by the wind but they manage a conversation darting between trees. Heather talks about Windshear’s grooming routine, and this weird thing Fishlegs said she thinks was supposed to be romantic and about how Ruff’s really funny.

 

“We should have always included her.” Astrid says to Heather’s neck. She apologised to Tuff but she should apologise to Ruff too.

“Yeah,” Heather agrees, “we really should have. I don’t even know why we didn’t, or at least just said it was best friend time.”

“Well, it’s really Girl Time now.” Astrid says and she thinks of how this is going to change for the good now. She thinks about Ruff braiding her hair, and of her gruff kindness and of how things might have stayed the same if Astrid could still see.

 

“How long do you think it’ll take before Tuff’s begging to be included?” Heather asks, posing the question like Astrid doesn’t know _exactly_ how it would go down.

“First, he’ll try to make Guy Time a thing again. Only Snotlout is invited. Ruff will invite herself and it’ll be the excuse Tuff needs to beg to be included with us. It’s way less homemaking crafts than he thinks it’ll be and he’ll then make Guy Time with Fishlegs.” Astrid predicts.

“That’s _very_ specific.” Heather laughs.

“I’ll bet an axe on it.” Astrid offers, and Heather laughs even louder.

 

They sink back into the noise of the flight; rushing wind and yells of the other riders all around them. Every so often Stormfly calls out to let Astrid know she’s nearby. It is nice, flying again after days of walking everywhere, even if Astrid’s just a passenger. Astrid tilts her head so the sun falls on her face.

 

It’s just under two hours later when there’s a shout from Ruff that brings everyone to a halt. The twins had taken Hiccup’s suggestion of flying low over the trees and either they’d picked the threshold right or they enjoyed the buzzing feeling up there because they’d been happy to stay. The dragons hover, wing beats created little eddies of air, swirling around them as Ruff shouts again.

 

“Holy hammer!” Ruff yells, “get a look at this!”

 

Windshear bolts upwards so fast Astrid has to grip super hard at Heather’s waist to stay on. The others dart up too and Astrid’s treated the overwhelming experience of everyone talking too loud in awe again. Hiccup lets out a little whoop of joy, and Fishlegs is talking so fast Astrid can’t catch anything

 

“What is it?” Astrid asks, although she’s got an inkling; dragons of stone and bones of a king. She’s glad she doesn’t have to see Hiccup’s smug grin about how flying was an important decision. It was probably only two more days walking.

“Dragons of stone,” Heather says, but she sounds far more cautious than the rest of them. “They look like statues, but who made them?”

“Also!” Fishlegs adds, his voice excited, “a very large skeleton! Or at least, the remains of one. I’m not sure what king has to do with anything but it’s very large and definitely bones.”

 

“We’re so close to the Well of Eir now,” Hiccup announces. And that seems to settle something inside of him, because upon begging he agrees that setting down and exploring for the rest of the afternoon is productive.

 

Astrid touches the rib bone of some colossal long dead dragon and can’t even imagine what it looks like. Fishlegs says it looks even _larger_ than the Red Death and maybe it’s nostalgia, but Astrid can barely imagine that. She can’t circle both hands around the rib though, and it blows her mind just how enormous it must be.

 

“What’s left of the skull is like nothing I’ve ever seen,” Fishlegs says, awe heavy in his words. He offers an arm to help Astrid balance herself against the rocky, uneven ground and she uses it and Stormfly’s side to say upright. Tuff’s touch-seeing lessons must have stuck because ‘Legs goes straight into explaining how things look when Astrid reaches out to touch it. It’s absolutely _enormous_ , and very heavy set bone and Astrid thinks about the muscle and the power needed just to hold this head up. It has these forward facing horns that end abruptly, like they’d been cut off, but from the circumference at the base they must have originally been huge.

 

The twins and Snotlout break something, it gives a resounding crack that scares a nearby flock of miniature dragons that squawking into the sky. Hiccup yells at them for a minute before Heather tells him to knock it off, the bones are old and it’s wonder they’re as well preserved as they are. Hiccup argues safety and Astrid has to hide a laugh at the idea of being killed by a long dead dragon.

 

“Can I be directed to a dragon of stone?” Astrid asks, not sure at who but wanting the general direction of one shown to her. Toothless actually comes to Astrid’s rescue, rubbing up against Astrid’s side and letting her use him as support. The ground beneath is rocky and uneven so it’s slow going until Ruff comes over and gives Astrid another point of balance. Then it’s easy for her to walk quite sturdily over it.

“There’s a couple of stone dragons up here,” Ruff says, she’s probably pointing but it’s only useful to Toothless. They lead her up an escarpment a little to a dragon statue maybe double Hookfang’s size and she presses her hand to the stone.

 

“Ruff, um, thanks.” Astrid starts, glad it was the Thorston girl that helped her out. She has a lot of things to say, really.

“Sure, easy.” Ruff shrugs, clearly not catching the mood. “Do you want me to describe it to you?”

“Yeah, but first I’d like to say something.” Astrid says. Ruff’s not quite as bad as Tuff explaining things but she’s still a little hard to follow. It’ll be fun. “I just want to apologise for the way I’d been treating you, before all this. That wasn’t what friends do, or how they treat each other, I’m sorry.”

 

Apparently that’s nothing like what Ruff was expecting because there’s a completely flabbergasted silence. It stretches on and Astrid’s pretty sure Ruff hasn’t walked off because there would have been noise, but maybe she has.

 

“Ruff?”

“Uh, thanks.” Ruff says gruffly. “I’m fine though. It’s more Tuff you should apologise too, he’s,” she pauses, before finishing with “sensitive.”  

“I already did,” Astrid replies. She reaches out to touch Ruff’s hand and gets half way up an arm but that’s fine. They both know Ruff wasn’t fine with it, but Astrid’s happy to pretend if that’s what Ruff wants. “And, I’m really glad you’re hanging out with Heather and I for Girl Time. I know Heather is too.”

 

“Hmm.” Ruff dismisses, like she can’t handle the moment so Astrid lets her steer the conversation away. “This dragon is like if a Gronckle and Flightmare had a baby that stole the ears off a Deathsong. And maybe those antennae things Changewings have, not sure if that’s scale pattern or if it’s that leaf-like shape.”

“Sounds incredible,” Astrid says, turning to press her hand back against the stone. The injury one is still tender and she just brushes along with the ends of her fingers. The statute is weathered away and a little difficult to pick features but it’s fascinating to listen to Ruff talk.

 

Hiccup gets everyone to move on as the chill starts to settle in the air again. There’s a small cave up further and a stream, so he wants to get dinner underway. Astrid lets him help her over the last of the rock outcrop and drops her hand to stand alongside Stormfly. She gets delegated to sitting behind again, but there are dry twiggy bushes nearby and firewood collecting is easy. There’s a couple of stones in the cave and Astrid sits against one, resting nearby the fire as Snotlout and Fishlegs bring back larger logs to keep it going longer.

 

“I’ll stay and keep Astrid company and the fire going,” Tuff offers, and from the cheerful tone Astrid knows Hiccups giving him a suspicious look. The offer to do work is surprising but Astrid’s pretty sure it’s just because he wants to to check Astrid’s hand without bringing it up around the others. Everyone is ignoring it, and Astrid’s thankful.

“Sure,” Heather says, before anyone else can talk. “You can continue that whole describing objects things. There’s some interesting plants out here Astrid might like to learn. We’ll be back soon.” Heather’s tone is no nonsense, and there’s only the bare minimum of grumbling as the gang heads out for food scouting.

 

“Heather’s right, there’s this cool looking plant that looks like a bunch of plates stacked end on end!” Tuff says. He darts out the cave space and is gone for about two seconds before darting back in to add “be right back!”

 

The next five minutes are like they’re out of tale told exaggeratedly by Gobber. The only noise around Astrid is the crackle of the fire until there’s a scream, and Astrid bolts up, almost tripping over herself. She can feel the warmth of the fire and just catches the light difference between cave wall and opening so she starts shifting slowly around the space until Tuff yells “I’m okay!” followed by a badly muffled yelp. Unsure if to believe him or not, Astrid hovers there, before deciding to take him at his word and carefully steps back to the space she was before to sit down.

 

“So,” Tuff says as he plonks down next to Astrid, “that plant is _very, very_ spiky. And not good to pick, at all.” Astrid snorts.

“Did you hurt yourself?” Astrid asks, even though she already knows the answer. Tuff makes an exaggerated pathetic sniffing noise.

“It pricked me. I swear the thorn was like, four inches big!”

 

“Can I have a look?” Astrid asks, holding her non-injured hand out.

“Well, no.” Tuff says and Astrid uses the outstretched hand to whack him in the shoulder. “I got the thorn out already. So it’s fine.” Astrid takes his hand anyway and runs her fingers over it, before realising that’s not the hand injured and makes a grab for the other. The wound itself is small but obviously tender as Tuff winces every time Astrid presses firmly down around it. She unravels the bandage around her own hand and takes the knife out of her boot to cut it into two pieces.

 

“Thanks,” Tuff says, “although, I probably should have kept that bandage whole. You never know when you might need to wrap a thigh wound.”

“Use your tunic,” Astrid says, putting her knife away and wrapping Tuff’s hand up with the bandage.

“Undignified.” He dismisses.

 

Astrid lets him take her own hand for scrutiny, twisting this way and that to get better light. Apparently it’s healing fine, Snotlout’s salve helping, as Tuff just wraps it back up, looping it less around her hand now and tying up tight enough to feel.

 

"You should keep practising." Tuff insists, switching the conversation back.

"With what? No non-aggressive plants and I've traced dragon features a million times now Tuff." Astrid looks up. It's dim enough now with only fire light that she loses any definition gained from shadows, the shape of Tuff melding into the background. "I'm pretty confident I could pick Smidvarg from the rest of the gang now."

"You've not even _tried_ tracing Smidvarg let alone the gang." Tuff's tone so scathing it's evident he's rolling his eyes. Astrid can't help a smile.

 

"I can't believe _you're_ telling me to practice. I think the world's gone topsy turvy."

"Ugh." Tuff says. He then groans exaggeratedly, a mush of sounds drawn out to make a disgusted noise. It would probably go on all night, if Astrid didn't elbow him in approximately the ribs. He makes a short annoyed noise, a sort of "mmphh!" that's kind of cute. Astrid's endeared.

 

"You could do me." He announces, abrupt. It breaks the careful silence settled around them and for a second Astrid shifts into a nod before it sinks in. She does a double take she's sure is worthy of any dockside gossip.

"I'm sorry?" Maybe she heard it wrong? Maybe she's hearing things.

"I mean," Tuff adds, nonchalant, "you could practice on me. You know all the dragons now? Time to move onto something else you already know and can learn to touch-see. Hence, me."

 

Astrid knows, like the way she knows Stormfly shifts automatically to the left and the way she knows follows the same pattern, he's offering her a lecherous grin. She can imagine it, his hair all over the place and eyebrows raised, smile curling up the corners of his mouth. He probably has no idea what he sounds like, even with the grin, just like the time about the boar pit.

 

"You want me to touch your face?" She asks, incredulous. She raises her eyebrows, mouth pursed.

"That's what's implied." Tuff says. Astrid waits a beat, and then he lets out a little breath of an " _oh._ " Astrid laughs. He splutters, struggling for a moment and Astrid feels, with everything that’s happened lately, _daring._

"I wasn't going to say no."

 

"Oh, okay." Tuff shifts, his knee knocking against Astrid's. "How do you want me?"

"Just in front of me is fine," Astrid says instead of _any way you'd like._ "I'm sure the dragons were more comfortable in my lap but you'll have to make do." Tuff laughs, pushing up and moving so he's sitting in front of Astrid, crossed legs. He shifts close enough for their knees to be pressed together, leaning forwards and Astrid spares a thought for how _odd_ this'll look for anyone getting back early.

 

"I'm ready," he says. Astrid's obviously hesitated too long because he reaches out and takes Astrid's right hand. She jumps, his fingers are _cold,_ and so is his face when he presses her hand to his cheek.

 

Astrid knew it was going to be close, and maybe a little weird, but she wasn't quite prepared for how intimate it was going to be. They're both quiet, caught up in the moment, or because Astrid's holding her breath, or in case the movement disrupts Astrid's attention. Astrid can feel every single breath, a rise and fall under her hand. Tuff's skin is a little dry, especially high on his cheeks and Astrid knows that dryness well because she gets it from going out flying all the time too. It's the safest spot for her fingers, but it's not really learning so she traces upwards to the top of his cheekbone. After another moment of hesitation she brings her other hand up trace symmetrically, careful to keep the bandage away from his face.

 

"I'll close my eyes," Tuff offers. Astrid can feel the movement of his eyelashes fluttering closed and she sucks in a long overdue breath. His eyelashes are stupidly long and flutter against the tips of her fingers. It makes Astrid’s stomach flip.

"That tickled," she breathes out, tracing both infraobirtal margins with infinite gentleness. The motion leads to Tuff's temples and under her fingers Astrid can feel how fragile the bone is at that point. It hits her, the amount of trust Tuff's placing in and she just needs a moment.

 

"You alright?" Tuff asks as Astrid draws her hands away.

"Yeah, I just, might poke your eye out. Do you need them?" She jokes.

"Well you're doing fine, so I guess not." Tuff shrugs, and Astrid can't help but reach back out to feel the smile pulling at his cheeks. She half misses, one hand grazing his ear and the other lower down on his cheek, ring finger catching on the corner of his lips. She jolts back, flustered and Tuff takes her hands again to direct them to his temples again.

"You wouldn't last a _day._ " Astrid says but she doesn't mean it. Tuff would probably be doing a million times better than she is. Although, he'd probably walk into some dragon's nesting cave or something and get eaten or become a surrogate father to Rumblehorn triplets.

 

"Snotlout wouldn't last a day." Tuff counters, letting go of Astrid's hands. She lets her fingers rest there, trying not to think about the delicate temporal bone. "Dropped by his own dragon, or eaten by him."

"Hookfang's pretty good really," Astrid says. She starts to trace the supercilary arch, brushing Tuff's eyebrow hairs the wrong way. He has ridiculously bushy eyebrows, the hairs soft under Astrid's fingers, and they're very expressive as he talks. "I think it's Fishlegs who wouldn't last a day. He'd have a nervous breakdown over not being able to read those dragon cards you ruined."

"I already worked out a touch language so he'll be fine in a couple of days." Tuff reasons. Astrid hums in agreement. "How's Hiccup going to put on his leg if he can't see where he put it?" The laughter that spills out her lips catches Astrid by surprise. She takes a hand back to cover her mouth, but with the other she can feel Tuff's surprise arching his eyebrows up.

 

"I didn't laugh." She says, twisting her mouth to the side. She draws her hand up his forehead until she hits his helmet. Taking her hand away from her own face she reaches for the helmet horns and plucks it off. "Don't tell anyone I laughed."

"I'm gonna tell _everyone._ " Tuff replies, taking his helmet out of Astrid's hand before actually pokes someone's eye out with it.

"You're the _worst._ " Astrid says. She brushes his hair back from his forehead, and really she doesn't mean that at all. Tuff hums noncommittally, falling into silence as Astrid traces his hairline.

 

Astrid closes her eyes, even though it makes only the slightest difference, and imagines. Her hands follow his hairline down to the tops of his ears and she tries to remember what he looks like. Some of the details escape her, the exact shade of blonde his hair is, how dark the freckles on his cheeks are, the angle of his chin. She tries to focus on the action, rather than the feeling, hands shifting down to the angle of his jaw. She can almost fit her entire palm along the bone, finger tips tucked behind the hinge of his jaw and thumbs against his cheek. She drags her hands down to the swell of his chin, running the touch just shy of his mouth and thinks about that chin poking into her shoulders. She knows there's freckles there, but she can't complete the image and moves back up to where she started over his cheeks. She runs the index finger and then middle over the nasal bone, then traces up the bridge of his nose to between his eyebrows. Tuff frowns exaggeratedly and Astrid feels the skin bunch up under her finger.

 

"I don't know if I remember you properly." She whispers, stroking back down the bridge of his nose, soothing the frown away. Her finger follows the dorsum narsi right to the tip and over the apex to rest in the philtrum before she loses her nerve again and takes away her hand. Touching his face like this is intimate and odd enough without tracing his lips with her fingers. She drops her injured hand to her lap, with both tracing there's so many digits around his face something's always not too far away from knocking against his mouth. The other hovers, unsure.

"Did you get amnesia too?" Tuff asks, either taking the piss or completely serious.

"Tuff," Astrid rolls her eyes, "you know what I mean."

 

"Hi," Tuff says, after a long moment. "I'm Tuffnut Thorston. I share everything with my twin sister Ruffnut and my best friend is Chicken. Ruffnut and I have a Hideous Zippleback called Barf and Belch, and we're from Berk. Currently we're staying with our friends at the Edge even though most of the time they're pretty lame at fun. I am a devotee of Loki, and sometimes run a breakfast talk show. The listener base is small but we're going to take it big soon. I like when things blow up and pretty flowers and that one song that Snotlout sings in the bathing house when he thinks no one's listening. I think we could be friends. Who are _you?_ "

"Hi Tuffnut," Astrid says with a smile. What a ridiculous, perfect thing to do. "I'm Astrid. Hofferson. I'm from Berk too, and I have a dragon called Stormfly. She's a Deadly Nadder and she's fast. I'm staying away from home too to help protect dragons from some dragon trappers. I like planning and building our defence capabilities and weapons training and being miles up in the air on Stormfly's back. It's nice to meet you, friends would be nice."

 

"It's nice to meet you too," Tuff says agreeably and then he leans in quickly. Astrid's hand is still hovering, held up in front of his face and he pushes straight into it, the backs of Astrid's finger pressed up against half his mouth and cheek. Astrid pulls her hand away, but not before she feels the softness of his lips.  "I'll let you in on a secret, I think we're already good friends."

"You know," Astrid replies, voice soft, "I think we are."

 

Astrid contemplating what to say next, what will break this tiny perfect moment in a good way when she hears noise coming from the forest around them. She pauses, cocking her head and listens as carefully as possible, trying to ignore the soft exhale of Tuff's breath.

 

"What are you two doing?"

 

Astrid jumps at Fishlegs' voice, knocking foreheads with Tuff and the both of them go reeling. She holds a hand up to press against the spot, more shock colouring her thoughts than any kind of pain although Tuff's hamming it up. "Owwwwww!" He moans, and Astrid imagines an exaggerated swish of the back of his hand to his forehead as he throws his head back. The unimpressed noise made by Snotlout explains it enough Astrid knows she's right.

 

Tuff puts his hand on Astrid's knee and pushes himself up, still carrying on and swivels back around to be sitting beside Astrid. He slouches into her side, both hands now pressed to his forehead.  "I am hurt, I am very, very hurt!"

"You're _fine._ " Heather says. Astrid flicks her head around to where Heather's voice had come from, unaware Heather was in the group that was back. Windshear comes striding up and greats Astrid with a nuzzle against a hand.

"I've probably got brain damage now!" Tuff whines.

"Astrid's the one I'm really worried about," Heather shoots back, too quick and too full of joy for it to be anything other than teasing. Astrid's heart sings for joy that Heather's relaxing with everyone even more. "After smacking your hard head she might have brain damage."

 

"I'm sorry, who are you?" Astrid asks, and it gets a laugh from everyone but it feels very much like a secret joke as Tuff huffs his into her shoulder. He pushes himself up after the laughter dies down and Astrid reassures that no, she doesn't _actually_ have brain damage.

"What did you all bring for dinner?" He asks with far more enthusiasm than the conversation before. "I'm _starving._ "

 

"Fish." Heather states. She's moved from her position before, more in front of Astrid and she can hear her arrange wood. “We found the stream.”

"We found a herb that looks sort of like a much finer dill." Fishlegs adds. The waft of whatever he's holding reaches Astrid's nose as he says "at least, it smells a bit like dill."

 

"Wait," Snotlout interrupts. Suspicion is thick in his voice. "Why is Tuff's helmet off?"

"Astrid can't see my helmet hair," Tuff shrugs. "I, on the other hand, unfortunately get to see _yours._ "

 

Clearly Snotlout still has his helmet on because he squeaks, hands slapping against metal. There's outrage evident in his tone as he criticises the mess of Tuffnut's hair. Criticising either of the twins is like criticising a yak; it neither pays attention nor cares what you're saying and will continue on to do far more important yak business once you've finished. The both of them are still bickering when Ruff and Hiccup return, apparently bringing kindling and a couple of small rabbit-like mammals Hiccup caught in a trap.

 

"What? Appetiser not ready?" Ruff asks. "What have you lot been _doing?_ Do we have to do everything around here?"

 

They do, apparently. If only because Fishlegs had been focusing on collecting herbs and plants instead of firewood. Astrid just sits and listens the hubbub of her friends milling around, of their dragons settling in and in one cheeky case, nicking a fish off the fire. Astrid sits with a contended Meatlug, patting her head and picking up rocks from around her to feed as a treat. At one point during the evening Astrid looks up at the prickle of her neck, like she can feel someone's eyes on her and she can't tell but she's pretty sure she's looking up at Tuff.

 

They don't make a formal agreement or anything, but Tuff doesn't suggest more touch-seeing practice and Astrid doesn't bring it up. The next night after a long day of scouting the gang camps at the edge of a grove that opens to a thyme lawn and Fishlegs says behind with Astrid to study the plants before he loses the light. The conversation is nice, but careful and it's not overbearing like Hiccup's been so Astrid doesn't want to scream but she misses the bluntness.

 

 

****

 

 

“Astrid, a moment.” Hiccup asks, or it would be a question if Hiccup’s tone implied one. Astrid considers refusing on principle but ultimately decides to humour him. All morning and yesterday of scouting out the land he’d not been so overbearing, that deserves a reward.

“Sure,” Astrid says, she’s still eating lunch though so she makes no attempt to move.

“Alone please.” Hiccup says, and Astrid rolls her eyes. She gives Hookfang the last of her meal, some more of the rabbit-like mammal Ruff and Hiccup had caught two days ago, and gets up with Heather’s arm as leverage. Hiccup offers his arm, rather insistently, and Astrid takes it if only so she doesn’t fall flat onto her face whilst she’s trying to convey annoyance.

 

They walk for about six minutes, small talk really and it feels awkward in a way Astrid’s not used to. She asks a question about the trap used to catch the not rabbit and Hiccup happily talks about the invention. It breaks the tension, and soon Astrid’s nodding along and she’s reminded of why she likes Hiccup so much. He’s interesting and engaging, and most importantly, not talking down to Astrid as he explains the concepts. This is the Hiccup everyone knows and loves, and Astrid would very much prefer to stay in this moment than have whatever conversation Hiccup was intending to start.

 

It’s only a minute or so later when Hiccup comes to a stop, stepping out of sync with Astrid. She keeps walking and is knocked off balance by her guide no longer moving. She steadies herself against Hiccup’s shoulder and then turns to face him, dropping where she was holding on.

 

“Things have been really tense between us lately.” Hiccup tries, voice going up like he’s asking a question.

“I wonder why.” Astrid deadpans.

“Things are tough right now, but we can fix it.” Hiccup says, and Astrid knows he means fix _her_.

 

She wonders if she _is_ just like the snapped mechanism on the Dragon Fly One or a broken window pane or the three hundredth design for Toothless’ tail. Just a broken piece of property that needs special resources to mend. When Toothless had lost his tail fin Hiccup had made him a prosthesis to _help_ , when Hiccup had lost a leg he’d been given a prosthesis to _help,_ when Astrid lost her sight Hiccup wanted to _fix_ her.  
  
"Astrid," Hiccup's saying, and his voice sounds Serious with a capital S. He takes Astrid's hands in his own like the moment is supposed to be special and romantic. "We can get through this. We've gotten through everything thus far; there will always be a Hiccup and an Astrid."

  
  
Astrid takes her hands back.

  
  
"Always?" She asks. Because that's not what she remembers, not at all.

"Always." Hiccup promises and suddenly he's close enough that Astrid can feel his breath, the exhale against her lips. It's too close, it’s too much and she puts her hands up to protect herself. One lands on his chest, the other brushes across his chin onto his neck and she pushes.

 

Hiccup’s stronger than he used to be, working at the forge did wonders for his noodle arms but he’s got nothing on Astrid really. She doesn’t mean to be too rough, although she messes up sometimes and after losing her sight she’s definitely worse. Hiccup stumbles. Astrid can hear it, the skid of his foot and a stuttered intake of breath. She knows what to say now.

 

"Actually, I don't think that's true." Astrid says, she's not sure if she's even looking at him properly. "Before dragons, there definitely wasn't an Astrid and a Hiccup. It can't be always if it hadn't already existed."

"Well, it can be now." He says, smile evident in his tone and he's just not fucking getting it.

"I don't know if I want that." She replies and the moment drifts past the cool it was hovering at to absolutely _frigid_ . Hiccup doesn’t answer for such a long time Astrid’s not sure that he hasn’t just left her standing there staring at nothing.

  
  
"What do you want?" Hiccup asks, and all Astrid thinks of is of Tuff-Writing and braiding her hair and the whole learning to see with her hands thing. Of Tuff _helping,_ not fixing.  
  
"Not this," Astrid says. She can't see his face, can't see the hurt in the pull of his mouth and curve of his brow. It's not necessarily easier this way, but the decision isn't hard. "I'm sorry Hiccup, but I'm not the girl you had a crush on when we were fourteen anymore, and you're not that boy. I will never be her again, I don't even know if ever was her, and I think you need to let her go."

 

"I don't think so," Hiccup blurts, words tumbling out too fast. "I mean, I think you're everything I thought you were. Don't put yourself down."

"I'm not asking, Hiccup, I'm telling you."

 

There’s a moment, and then Hiccup demands “Is this about _Tuff?_ ” Astrid flinches from the words, caught out but angry at the accusation all the same. Astrid feels herself fall into a defensive position, mouth taut and hands ready. Tuff is the solution, not the problem.

“This is about _you,_ ” she says, “and about me, and about this entire concept of _us_ being founded on your idea of who I am.”

“I think it’s a little bit about Tuff.” Hiccup adds, because he has no fucking idea of when to back down and any sympathy Astrid had for the moment dries up.

 

“I _know_ it’s about your inability to consider me a fully functioning person without my sight. Just because Tuff is still treating me normally doesn’t mean any of this is about him.” Astrid snaps. “Let it go.”

 

Hiccup’s silent for a long moment again. This time, however Astrid knows he’s still there, she can hear the shift of his feet against the ground and the fidgeting of his hands against his elbows and she knows all of the sudden that she’s the one that needs to walk away. She takes a deep breath and turns. The first step is easy, easier than she thought and she’s probably going to walk into something but each step gets lighter and lighter, easier and easier.

 

 

****

 

 

“ _Girl time!”_ Astrid announces as she finally makes it back to the rest of the gang. She feels wild and angry, and unsure now she’s no longer surprised at people just taking her arm. Heather tucks in close, elbows linked and calls back to the boys.

“Don’t wait up!” Ruff announces like they’re going out for the night, instead of it being the middle of the day.

 

Astrid focus on both the arms leaning on her as much as she’s leaning on them and thinks about the difference in the two walks with similar purposes.

 

“You okay Astrid?” Heather asks, tucking her other hand around the curve of Astrid’s arm, stroking gently. Astrid slows her pace,

“Of course she isn’t,” Ruff huffs, “who comes back from that kind of talk and asks for emotional support when they’re _fine?_ Although, I’m sure any excuse is good enough to have girl time.”

“I’m _offering_ emotional support,” Heather snarks back. It’s decidedly fond and Astrid’s glad just for this that all of this experience happened.

 

“Am I what you thought of fourteen year old me?” Astrid asks, cutting the mood to something sharp. Both Ruff and Heather stop and consider.

“Do you mean before dragon riding?” Heather clarifies, tone careful. “I only met you afterwards and you’re more than my initial judgement.”

“Report.” Ruff corrects.

“Fine,” Heather concedes, “my report for the Outcasts was lacking. You came through for me even though I didn’t deserve it. I underestimated you.”

 

“You did deserve that help, Heather.” Astrid says, she can’t offer a friendly hand squeeze right now but she hopes Heather can see it in her expression. By the way Heather squeezes her arm briefly Astrid thinks she gets it. The both of them half turn towards Ruff, waiting.

 

“I thought you were perfect,” Ruff says. “I thought you thought you were better than me, and you got all this attention - from boys, and from elders for being so good at everything. After, well I’m not sure when, maybe eight years old? You stopped being fun and started being so serious and the epitome of what a good Viking was supposed to be. I don’t think anyone had you pegged then, I think other people made up this perfect idea of you that only reflects your drive to be good.”

 

“That’s really deep Ruff,” Heather says, appreciative. Astrid is a little blown away, both by the honesty and how much Ruff had already thought about it. Astrid had no idea how much existing in that way had affected Ruff too.

“Do you think Hiccup’s into me or into the idea of me?” Astrid asks next, trying to muddle all these feelings out.

 

"I think the more important question is are _you_ into Hiccup?" Heather says. And Astrid doesn't need Ruff's agreement with that statement to feel the truth of it.

 

 

****

 

 

They don’t move on for the rest of the day. Girl time had slipped into a larger conversation, about first impressions and living in a Berk full of fear. Heather has a lot of hushed stories of the kind, gentle people she had believed where her parents and Astrid speaks of living under the pressure of giving the Hoffersons a good name again. Ruff is nonchalant about her own family stories, but Astrid listens to one spoon, one bowl, two children spiel with dawning horror. It takes most of the rest of the afternoon and Astrid feels a little bad her drama is wasting everyone’s time but when they troop back to the camp space the guys all seem relaxed and happy.

 

Fishlegs has some plant specimens - apparently he and Hiccup had managed to work out the best way to pick the prickly plant that had injured Tuff. Hiccup’s listening, offering input every so often and likely sketching away. Snotlout’s cooking something on a fire, at makeshift spit with some kind of bird roasting away, bolstered every so often by a blast of blame from Hookfang.

 

“We camping for the night here?” Ruff asks.

“We’re all pretty tired and grumpy,” Hiccup says, voice neutral. “Might as well have a night off and get going early in the morning. I’m sure we’re close to the Well of Eir.”

“I just wanted to know so I could scope out the best sleeping place.” Ruff shrugs, knocking her shoulder against Astrid’s before stepping away.

“Already took it!” Tuff crows, slightly muffled and Heather laughs. Ruff’s apparently not impressed, and it results in a scuffle.

 

Astrid lets Heather lead her to sit down near the twins, far enough away to not get caught by a stray elbow or knee. The sky is dimming and Astrid’s losing any of the vision she does have, shadows blurring together. The fire is enough light that she picks it up, and  it dances in front of her eyes and she watches it whilst Heather asks questions about some new herb-like plant Fishlegs has found.

 

The bird is delicious when they get to eat it and Astrid shares most of hers with Stormfly. Belch has snuck close too, head resting against Astrid’s thigh and she strokes down his horn, comfortable and warm in this space. For a moment it feels like any other fun gang outing, of beach parties and sneaking mead out when they were younger. Astrid sinks into the feeling, laughing as Barf gets upset about the lack of attention he’s receiving. There’s a squabble, and Astrid works it out by agreeing to pat the both of them. She falls asleep there, drained and decided, snuggled into dragons.

 

Hiccup keeps his promise of an early morning and there’s plenty of grumbling but not about getting to go flying again. They spread out, fanning over the landscape and Astrid convinces everyone she can fly by herself again even though she’s no help looking for the Well of Eir. Stormfly seems pleased too, showing off as she flies around, performing loop-de-loops and this new hovering trick she’s learnt.

 

They stop for a morning break, Hiccup’s increasingly frustrated and they find a stream to refresh by. The dragons have a play in the water, and most of the gang join in. Hiccup ropes Fishlegs into going over some map he’s drawn, muttering about quadrats and spreading further out. Astrid fills her water canisters and splashes whoever accidentally splashes her, sitting at the edge of the water. Snotlout discovered the middle is deep, so Astrid doesn’t want to sprain an ankle mucking around.

 

After Tuff finds the deep spot he calls uncle and wades over to drip all over Astrid instead. She shoves him, laughing as he shakes like a yak after snowfall, spraying her with water. He sits down next to her, shivering a little.

 

“Sorry, you know.” Tuff says. Astrid gives him her best blank expression but she’s not sure it’s meaningful now. All her looks are probably blank. Still, Tuff gets it. “Hiccup implied you two broke up.”

“We weren’t really together.” Astrid shrugs. “It was more like an idea of possibly being together.”

“Well, being hurt sucks anyway.” Tuff shrugs back. He’s too nice for his own good really, Astrid’s glad she knows him.

 

“Thanks.” Astrid says. The ground is much wetter than it was before, so she adds, “can you not make a puddle _right_ where I’m sitting?”

 

Hiccup has a plan a few minutes later so it calls the break to an end. He splits everyone except Astrid up into specific areas, marking out spaces on a piece of paper. Astrid listens but doesn’t understand without the visual aid, and she’s not sure how much the others take in even with it. Still, Fishlegs and Heather probably get it and by now Hiccup should have learnt how to take into account their friends so the plan is solid.

 

Astrid mostly circles around, asking everyone how they’re going, if they’ve got a lead and spreading the information between everyone. Not much is good news but Fishlegs shares interesting observations that the foliage is becoming more familiar and Snotlout’s complaints get more and more creative. The lunch break has an even greater mood of despair.

 

“Why can’t we find this well?” Hiccup laments. “We’ve followed everything. Lyfjaberg should be around here somewhere!”

“Maybe the Valkyrie spirits are hiding it?” Fishlegs suggests. He’s immediately challenged on the idea.

“The Valkyries are _tending_ the Well of Eir, not protecting it.” Heather says with a shrug.

 

“Wait, do you mean that well over there?” Snotlout asks. Astrid can’t tell where he’s pointing but the mood immediately shifts.

“Yes!” Hiccup yells. It sounds like he swears under his breath.

“I didn’t know it was _that_ well.” Snotlout shrugs.

“Odin’s blouse! Don’t you think any well would have been interesting?”

 

“You could have explained that.” Snotlout grumbles, dragging his feet as he follows when the gang starts moving. Astrid doesn’t know which way it is, and she stands there, a million thoughts in her head. Everything’s come down to _this._ The Well of Eir. She doesn’t know how she feels, she’s probably going to be sick.

 

“We don’t have to go.” Tuff offers, and Astrid’s glad the others are far enough away their voices are muffled, and her own is for them. She decides not to voice her worries again, but all the same the moment seems important to just exist between her and Tuff.

“We came all this way,” Astrid disagrees, “I should try.”

 

Tuff takes her hand.

 

It’s the injured hand, and the bandage is probably kind of sweaty and gross by now but he doesn’t complain. She holds on, probably too tight, but he doesn’t complain about that either and they take the next step together. By now, the others have realised Astrid’s been left behind and they’re waiting at the bottom of Lyfjaberg for her.

 

Astrid takes a deep breath. “I think I need to do this by myself.”

“Okay, good luck.” Heather says first, reaching out to Astrid’s other hand and squeeze it. She sounds half choked up and Astrid feels that way a little too.

“Yeah,” Fishlegs agrees, coming forward to squeeze Astrid’s hand when Heather lets go of it. “Good luck, you should bring some back for research purposes.”

“I’ll fill my canteen,” Astrid promises. Really, they can all come up and drink the water if they want. It doesn’t matter.

 

“If it does heal stuff, you could use it to fix Snotlout.” Ruff adds, cackling before Snotlout even protests. She reaches out to join in squeezing Astrid’s hand and Astrid smiles. “Good luck, though.”

“You could use it to heal the twins! I think they got dropped on the head as babies a lot.” Snotlout shoots back.

“Hey,” Tuff says, “that’s character building head dropping, thanks.”

 

“Astrid,” Hiccup says, after a long enough moment that Astrid wasn’t sure he was going to say anything at all. “I hope it works.”

“Thanks.” Astrid replies, and she means it even if she hates the way those words sound.

 

Astrid said alone, but she doesn’t let go of Tuff’s hand and he doesn’t question it. He acts as a point to brace against, badly directing when there’s a rock in the pathway. The walk up Lyfjaberg is shorter than expected, Astrid thought it was going to be a steep, precarious climb but obviously everyone would have suggested flying up if that was the case. Walking seems more symbolic in some way.

 

“Oh,” Tuff says when they reach the peak. That’s not a good oh, so it’s worrying.

“Hmm?” Astrid prompts.

“I just thought it’d be grander, you know?” Tuff explains, throwing around their joined hands to explain how big he thought it might be. “Maybe a golden bed for the wounded or something. A dining table to eat the god’s food to make you really healthy again.”

 

“As long as it’s Eir’s, that’s what matters.” Astrid says, pulling Tuff along. Her entire stomach feels like it’s rioting, the food from earlier coming back from the dead to haunt Astrid’s insides. She couldn’t eat a single piece of food provided by the gods.

“As long as it’s Eir’s.” Tuff confirms.

 

Astrid knocks into the well before she feels it with her spare hand and she grabs at it. It feels like normal stone, a solid little thing and she lets go of Tuff’s hand to trace the whole top of it. There’s something carved in a stone and Astrid directs Tuff’s attention to it as she feels over the next.

 

“It says Eir’s Well,” Tuff reads, “and there’s a tiny picture of a knife or something. And like, a weird looking lizard.”

“What does that mean?” Astrid asks, tracing right around the top stones until she’s back to the words. She touches them carefully, following each rune. It’s harder to imagine them now, but she can almost read it without seeing. The drawings are much more difficult to follow.

“Who knows, want to drink some water?” Tuff asks.

“Sure,” Astrid says even though she has no idea what her real feelings on the matter are.

 

The bucket system is old, it groans the whole way down but Tuff says it looks polished and clean so he suggests leaving an offering for the Valkyrie spirits. Astrid picks at one of the bird decorations of her skirt and pulls it off to leave at the base of the well. Astrid sits on the edge, leg keeping her balanced as she waits for the bucket to return full of water. Tuff loops the whole thing in place when it reaches the top again and some of the water sloshes over the rim.

 

It takes a moment for Astrid to empty her canteen and she hands it over so Tuff can fill it. She’d hate to spill the lot. Tuff hands it back and sits on the well edge too.

 

“Thanks.” Astrid says. She closes her eyes, remembering the shape of him, dark against the bright light from the sun. Hope blossoms in her chest. She holds the canteen up to her mouth and takes a deep drink. It tastes just like normal water, nothing special or different. Is that enough? Should she drink more? She has no idea. “I don’t know if I want to open my eyes.”

 

“A,” Tuff says, “it doesn’t change a thing either way.”

 

Astrid’s heart is going to _burst._ Eyes still shut she puts the lid back on the canteen and puts it down on the well edge, somewhat clumsily but it stays put. Tuff makes a noise in the back of his throat, part questioning and part encouraging. She reaches for him, fingers brushing his collarbone and shifting until they press delicately onto the hinge of his jaw and reel him in. She presses their foreheads together, his hair scrunching up against her temple.

 

“Is this okay?” She asks, they’re so close she can feel his breath against her cheek. He nods, stilted against where their heads are pressed together. His eyes are closed too, she can just tell. “Tuff?” She prompts.

“Please,” he says. Astrid lifts her other hand, cupping his cheek and in mimicry of nights before she traces over his cheekbones, the bridge of his nose, over his philturm and catching his bottom lip as she heads to his chin. There’s a tiny intake of breath, sharp and sudden.

 

“I’m going to kiss you,” Astrid tucks her hand back up, cradling his cheek, “if that’s okay.”

 

Tuff nods again, enthusiastic in the movement and Astrid slots their mouths together. She strokes along his cheekbone and keeps the kiss gentle, even as Tuff melts in her hold. His hands are respectfully at his sides, not touching anywhere, it’s endearing. She could stay in this moment forever, experiencing him chase her mouth as she fakes pulling away, the feel of his dry skin against her palm. She thinks about his freckles and the storm grey of his eyes and the exact shade of blonde.

 

Astrid opens her eyes.

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [To Ashes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15035207) by [dendraica](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dendraica/pseuds/dendraica)




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